


A Dam as fine as any.

by OlailaB



Category: The Hobbit (Jackson Movies), The Hobbit - All Media Types, The Hobbit - J. R. R. Tolkien
Genre: Dwarf, Dwarves, EventualSmut, F/M, Khuzdul, Love, OC, Romance, Singing, Smut, Tattoos, buthegetsthere, butifyouwanttochangeittoyourcharacteryoucan, everybodylives, gaelic, jewellerymaker, nobodydies, originalcharacter, thorinlives, thorinsajerk
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-03-25
Updated: 2019-06-15
Packaged: 2019-12-07 19:30:44
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 9
Words: 24,108
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18239255
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/OlailaB/pseuds/OlailaB
Summary: A young Dam starts her adventure in the Shire. Her journey as old as the stone itself, written by Mahal. A blessing for the line of Durin. She will laugh, cry, and bond with the Company of Thorin Oakenshield. Olaila Blacklock was everything a dwarf could be.... but she was also a very good hobbit if she wanted to be. An adventure with 13 dwarves, a hobbit and a wizard? What more could a Dam want on her 100th birthday?She was a Dam as fine as any.My 1st ever fanfiction! Thank you for taking the time to read!Anything you recognise belongs to Prof J.R.R Tolkien. Olaila belongs to me.





	1. Chapter 1

Chapter 1. Prologue

50 years old.... You were a big girl. You were tough. You were trained to use axes, sword and knives, Olaila Blacklock... Daughter of Olar and Morai.

And yet... You were running away, from your caravan, from the fight- with your Amad in tow.

Your Adad was fighting orcs, which had ambushed you on your journey to the blue mountains to visit your Kin. You had begun to fight, grabbing your trusty extendable axes Shatter and Earth and cut down a few orcs. But your Adad ordered you to run.

"Olaila! Take your Amad! Run, don't look back!"

"But Adad, what will-"

"You listen here, you take your Amad and you run, and you keep going until you find help. We will find you! Wherever you go we will get you! Run!" One life lesson ladies and gentlemen, NEVER disobey a Blacklock. 

Turning, you see your Amad, trying to fend off an orc with an arrow in her leg. Swinging Shatter in her direction you decapitate the orc and yank her off the ground running, ignoring her protests and you don't look back... Lucky for you none of the orcs saw you two leave, making escape easy.

You see it, a small pass where you can run through. Salvation! And then you hear it....

"Vicavory! kulknej pi vok gijak avonighav!" *

The world stops.... They lost... you and your mother are the last of the Blacklock family. Your Adad.... Gone... Uncle Obar.... Gone.... You pressed forward, through the little civilisation. The Shire.

Seeing a round Green door in the distance on a raised hill, you drag your weakening mother as best as you can to it and knock, hard and fast. Heart thrumming in your ears, tears falling down your face.

"Who could be knocking at this hour, I swear where are the manners in this Shi- Oh my. " Bungo Baggins blanched at the door. Seeing a pair of drarrowdams on his very own doorstep, crying, breathless... and wounded. That blood will stain that dress- Bungo thought .

"Please..." replying in hurried Westron.

"Our caravan was attacked, all dead, my ama- I mean my mother and I are all that's left, no followers I assure you. We need shelter, medicine. Please sir help us!"

Breathless was not a good sound for your young voice. Bungo had his wife and newborn Son- Bilbo to think of. Could he bring these strangers in to his home? He was a Baggins- no need for adventure and bloody legs. He sighed.... Supper be damned, he was nothing if he wasn't an accommodating host!

"Belladonna my love! Get the tea ready, four... no ten! Ten honey cakes and some lavender poultice! I'm going to get the healers! We have guests!"

If not for the generosity of Bungo, you and your Amad would have surely perished.

The hobbits didn't trust you straight away. But with your natural motherly ways as a babysitter for Bilbo and the other little ones and your knowledge of jewellery making you became a staple in the community of the Shire. Hobbits did like a simple amber wedding ring or a wooden bangle with silver inlay now and again.

Bilbo became your baby brother, as thick as thieves in all endeavours. You grew up at Bag End with the Baggins family. Your Amad taught you how to be the perfect dam, gave you training in the ways of the axe and jewelry making to a Dwarven Kings standard. She gave you your tattoos at every milestone in your life. When you were 88 she started to wither, your name day had passed and she saw you as a perfect Dam. With Belladonna and Bungo teaching you how to be the perfect Hobbit, she knew you would do special things. She blessed you with your name day beads, 16 including hers and your Adads betrothal breads- all that was found after the destruction of that night at the caravan. You hung 15 of them on a necklace and kept your namesake bead in your hair, hidden behind a chunky braid. She returned to the stone. With Mahal. With Obar and his sons. With Adad. It wasn't long after you and Bilbo lost Bungo and Belladonna. Bilbo inherited everything and you both lived in Bag End, that was home. 

You were Olaila Blacklock. You were strong, you were a grown Dwarrowdam. Your hair long in a chestnut braid, your eyes green like emeralds caught in the midsummer sun, your body curvy but capable, skin pale and marked with the tattoos of your people. No beard though, shame but it made you appear more.... Hobbitish. You would do wondrous things- Starting on the day you turned 100. The day Gandalf came with a good morning and an adventure.

 

Translation and notes-

*Victory! We drink Dwarf blood tonight! *

Thank you for taking the time to read this fanfiction! It's my first one and I hope you all enjoy!


	2. Chapter 2. The meeting

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Gandalf brings an adventure, and a handsome dwarf that catches your eye.

Your POV.

I can't believe it! Its my 100th birthday tomorrow! 100! Who sends the soon to be in 24 hours birthday girl out to go grab seedcakes that he could blooming well bake himse-.... Ohhhhhhh! I see Bilbo. I see. Send the birthday girl away to get some seedcakes so when she comes home there's a surprise! Oh I can't wait.

I hummed happily while going to the market, skipping along to a little tune in my head, Bilbo will get the best seedcakes ever! Maybe with the fresh strawberry jam I made the other day? Yes perfect!

3rd person POV.

Olaila didnt know that right at that very second her adopted younger brother Bilbo was having a befuddling conversation with a wizard. The wizard in question was the one and only Gandalf the Grey. Maker of fantastic fireworks and even more marvellous smoke rings that flew like butterflies above the Shire. Earlier Bilbo had watched his Dwarven sister walk to the market and as a very special present was delivered. He was going to give it to her tomorrow, but in the Shire nothing ever stays secret, and nobody comes to Bag End for no reason, so if she was away it'd be secret until tomorrow. 

Flustered and muttering about adventures Bilbo retreated to hide his sisters gift. Adventures... utter nonsense Bilbo thought, puffing his pipe and buzzing around the comfy Hobbit hole until he was sure Olaila wouldn't find her present. Tricky you see, dwarves can find anything if motivated enough, but a hobbit can hide things even better. And Bilbo was the Shires Hide and Seek champion for 5 years running at the summer festivals.

Grabbing the jam his sister made he sat down on his fathers chair with a teapot and 2 cups ready near the fire. The seedcakes may not be as good as his own (to which he has several in his pantry) but they were worth the smile he would receive off his dear Olaila.

Olaila and Bilbo had a very quiet evening, cakes and jam devoured for supper, tea all but drunk, they retired to pleasant dreams. Little did they know the wheels set in motion for our very own Dams 100th birthday. 

Bilbo truly outdid himself with his gift. He had asked the Gamgees for some help with contacting a ranger about a dwarven dress for Oli, and sure enough he had found one! Singing a lively turn twirling around in her ash grey dress Oli was beside herself with joy. And it pleased Bilbo to see her as much. The dress was a traditional Blacklock ash grey, with silver designs around the bottom, with a light blue tie front corset and big puffy white sleeves. The perfect blend of dwarf and hobbit he thought, he even bought her some nice deerskin boots to match- with metal soles and silver luck coins on the clasp. She was the envy of the Shire with that outfit, so unique and not hobbitish, but stunning and carefree.

The Gamgees gifted her with a new axe belt from the old museum, from her adopted ancestor Bullroarer Took himself. A small party was had at the Gamgee household and they returned home for dinner a little later.

Supper was upon them, Bilbo sitting at the table while Olaila was in her room arranging the flowers she received today and prepping some too. From tulips (her favourite) to carnations and lilys, she decided to press the blooms in her sketch book from her Amad, to keep them forever on a milestone birthday such as this.

She heard Bilbo open the door, and she could feel a change in the air. Someone was here, someone... new! She listened to the muffled voices and decided to venture out of her room and found Bilbo opening the door a second time to an older Dwarf. He was older than her for sure, He had a kind fatherly face and a long white beard that split at the end. An air of good upbringing was around him.

"Balin at your service." He bowed arms wide. Bilbo stood there as still as a wooden doll. You nudged his side and curtsied while he bowed in response.

"Bilbo Baggins at your service."

"Olaila B at you service, let me get your cloak, mustn't keep you out in the cold."

You never gave away your last name, but Baggins and Blacklock had the same initial so "B" would have to do. The older dwarfs cheeks pinked at the smile you flashed him, and as you took his cloak you led him to where you could hear another... Dwarf.

And oh MAHAL. You walked in first to see a bald dwarf in Bilbos chair. He was gruff, his beard bushy and dark, his eyes deep and he had tattoos upon his head. You felt as if time stopped, a fire burned in the nook of your chest that held your heart and you were sure you were flushed a bud pink. The air had been sucked out the room for you, and he scurried to his feet sputtering how he was at your service, saying his name, bowing deeply as you curtsied. (A/N Can you imagine!? Dwalin all flustered and cute)

"Dwalin." You tried the name on your tongue, and you felt very happy with how it felt right.

"Well Master Dwalin and Master Balin, it seems I'll be needing to get more from the pantry. If there are more of you arriving I suggest you move the table in to the hallway! BILBO time to be the best host since Old Took at midsummer's 30 winters past!" As you neared the exit you shot a cheeky grin behind you at Dwalin.

"Cookie jar is on the shelf to the left. Bilbo keeps the chocolate chip ones on the bottom, flip it and shake to avoid the hazelnut ones." Dwalin grinned from ear to ear. Balin didn't miss the look you both exchanged, and chuckled at his brother.

\-----------------------------

12 dwarves.... 12! The most you had ever seen in you home and you were laughing as they sang about plates and knives. Bilbo was protesting too much but you decided to let them do their thing.

He should know about how musical dwarves can get, you sang at every opportunity possible.

Gandalf watched beside you with mirth in his eyes, he knew what you were, who you were even, but nobody else cottoned on. He patted your shoulder and helped you with the cups you were bringing in.

THAT WHAT BILBO BAGGINS HATES!

Now that was a pretty jig for any dwarf. You had another pot tea ready and sat them all down, taking them all in. Dwalin and Balin were brothers, opposite sides to a coin, one hard and burly, and one soft and jolly. You knew straight away you liked them. Especially Dwalin, it was nice to have someone so much like your warrior kin around. Ori, Nori and Dori were the brothers Ri, a scribe, a thief and a mother hen. You saw Oris books and thought maybe you could draw with him sometime... while Nori was talking to his brother, well. Arguing would be appropriate. Definitely arguing, something about how a master thief and spymaster wasn't chosen to be THE thief. Oh well. Oin and Gloin were much like your departed uncle, big robust men with great beards and chortling laughs that rumbled the very air you breathed, your heart tugged sadly. Bofur, Bombur and Bifur were mining folk, very much unique in their own way, and that hat. UNIQUE. Kili and Fili had already grinded on Bilbos last nerve, and forcing them to sit with tea was hard, but apparently you had a "look" that could rival their Amads. Good. At least they'll listen.

KNOCK KNOCK

Bilbo went for the door, slowly with a little shuffle. He was going to faint soon, you could tell, Bilbo was never good with stress. He let the last Dwarf in. You stopped sipping your tea. Thorin Oakenshield. The rightful King of Erabor was in your hobbit hole.

You didn't even hear anything about dragons or a contract as your eyes followed Thorin around as he spoke to Bilbo. Mind swirling in the recollection the caravan and how you first came to the shire 50 years prior, a caravan going to visit your kin. Or was it king? A hand- Oris, waved you out of your dream state as he asked if you would be joining the quest to reclaim Erebor.

"NO! Not Olaila, not a chance!" Bilbo flustered and fumed, he forgot you were older and well capable of handling you self. You opened your mouth to give him a piece of your mind.

"Why not?" Ori asked in a small voice, cutting you off.

"We won't allow a female to join our quest! She will be a burden, she can look after her husband Master Baggins house while we are gone, then he can return here after the endeavor is done. No place for a FEMALE let alone a HOBBIT FEMALE. Mahal don't need to be dealing with whining about comf-" You snapped-

THUNK! THUNK!

Thorin was pinned to the wall by 2 axes, Shatter and Earth, by his shoulders. Olaila stood on the table, walked over it with eyes of pure death, the chains retracting in to their holders.

"Give me that contract master Balin." Signing it with your name, including the initial B, you hopped off the table passed Balin the contract and whirled at the stubborn king faces inches apart. You spoke.

"I am NOT Bilbos Wife Master Oaskenshield. I am his SISTER. I will join you on this quest, NOT as a female hobbit. BUT as HIS PERSONAL BODYGUARD! If you have a problem with that then. Tough. Shit. Sunshine. " You punctuated each word with the removal of your axes and clipping them in your belt. You bid them goodnight and went to your room to pack and get some rest. You didn't notice the shock in Thorins glare, neither did you notice the blush upon Dwalins cheeks as he chucked. You did notice however the thundering roar of laughter after you clicked you bedroom door shut. A small smile graced your face. This Blacklock Dam was going to help reclaim Erabor. And these Dwarves think you're a hobbit in boots! 

You were now a part of the Company. 

Mahal help them all.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N I am hoping to upload a chapter or so every 2/3 days. But again I hope this wasn't too long a chapter for you all! I bet you can all guess who our Dam is liking? 
> 
> OB XX


	3. Chapter 3. An argument in Bree

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Why must these dwarves get all defensive? Let me wear pants for Mahals sake!

Awaking with a sleepy yawn you looked outside your window. First light, the golden sun bathing your face in a gentle warmth, perfect time to get breakfast started. Dressing in a simple high collar olive green dress with white tight sleeves and some olive boots, you felt ready to take on the day, can't forget the belt and the axes! Braiding your hair and pinning it in to a low bun you let your mind wander.

Outside your bedroom door was the Company of Thorin Oakenshield.

You were going on a quest to reclaim Erebor... an adventure. A dangerous adventure with distant lands, your kin and a dragon. A dragon!

Happy birthday to me. You chuckled, making sure your necklace was secure and hidden under your dress collar. Picking up the two packs you had made the night before, you took a steadying breath and opened your door. The sounds of the dwarves sleeping was a good sign at least, you had enough time to make breakfast for yourself before the stampede ensued.

\----------------------------- Time Skip -----------------------------------

Bilbo had made up his mind, he would go. He would go and he would revel in this adventure! His sister had already left, waiting for him to join the group as said in a note she left him. The birds chirping in encouragement as he burst through his front door, with a pack on his back and the contract flailing behind him.

The Took side won that day and he ran, as fast as his neat hobbit feet would carry him-

"I'm going on an adventure!"

The Shire became a blur of greens and yellows as Bilbo sprinted, the smell of flora and fauna breezed past him. Bilbo knew Olaila was destined for great things, but he didn't know he was too.

"Aaaaaait....... Waaiiiiiit..... WAIT I SIGNED IT! I signed it!" Bilbo yelled as he caught up to the company, readying to pass the paper to Balin. The older dwarf peered at the contract through a glass and smiled.

"Everything appears to be in order. Welcome Master Baggins to the company of Thorin Oakenshield."

Grinning from ear to ear Olaila wriggled happily atop her aburn steed. Bofur next to her beamed at her enthusiasm, 2 hobbits on this journey, what a rarity!

Thorin looked impassive as he ordered Bilbo a pony. Ever the protester Bilbo was lifted atop his mount- all the while talking about how good he was at walking. Olaila and Bofur began conversing again, talking about anything to pass the time. Oli knew she'd have to make a friend on this journey, and it happened to be Bofur, the wood whittling miner from the Blue Mountains.

This particular dwarf was rather the life of the party, his cheeky demeanour and that strange hat brought a smile to her face instantly. Laughter was important to the Blacklocks, it lit them up inside, like a forge burning bright with hot fire. It gave them reason to fight and power on, and Bofur reminded her of that need to power on. Bofur would be the one to help her in the worst of times, Mahal himself knew that.

Laughing at one of his jokes they both lifted their hands in sync to catch purses of coin. Bilbo was quite the moneymaker, especially when Olaila suggested a bet on if he would join them. Naturally she betted FOR him to join, a smart move, the company none the wiser. Now she had extra coin to buy provisions. Not that she hadn't packed anything unnecessary, she just wanted to sell the wares in the second pack to make room for clothing.

Dresses were not quest attire.

Your Amad and Belladonna would be mortified. For different reasons- as Belladonna would hate to see the dress ruined, and your Amad would be scolding you for not making some dwarven battle clothing after she left. Why would you even need it? The shire was safe as houses.... As hobbit holes..... It was safe! It was home, well it WAS, maybe you could find solace in Erebor, maybe you could live your dream somewhere new.

\--------------------------- Time Skip--------------------------------

Bree was bustling, from the swarms of men and elf you felt small. You were taller in the Shire, you were sure of it. After dismounting your horses the company split up to gather provisions.

The company wouldn't have you go alone to the jewellers or the clothing merchants, so you were accompanied by the only dwarf who seemed interested in clothing.

Dori.

You had sold nearly all of you jewellery to one shop, only left with a ring in the shape of a leaf and a bracelet in the shape of fire ivy. You had a pretty heavy purse of coin now, ever more so after that bet with the company for Bilbo. Dori himself even bought a lovely silver and cherry wood clasp for his beard from you, saying it as of excellent craftsmanship and that nobody but a dwarf would cherish it as such. Turning a small corner you saw a bright green shop, The Hattermires Tailors. All clothes for all races. Interesting...

Mr and Mrs Hattermire were the type of folk you'd see in a kings court, brightly dressed, flouncy and oh so high and mighty. After almost refusing to provide you with mens clothing you showed them the jewellery and flashed some coin. Bingo. Smiles crept on their faces as they shoved you in to a changing room.

You had 2 pairs of sensible trousers, 2 Tunics, 2 pairs of underclothes, a bathing shift and most importantly a leather protector. Intricately patterned with a matching belt, the light brown leather vest went over your dark grey shirt, and was tough and sturdy for its weight. The forearm protectors matched and hooked over your middle fingers, finishing the look.

"We had dealings with some of your kin an age ago, I think it was from my father's time. This is one of the best pieces we received, strong and flexible, as if made of metal, it will protect you from any arrow and take a good beating from an elven blade before splitting. There are brown boots to match, carved in runes I hadn't the patience to remember. But for the jewellery it is fair trade with the other clothing. I will also give you one of the black cloaks for naught, for your figure is too curvy to be hidden, even by these clothes. I can't have one of my customers attacked and taken on the road like some virgin among men."

Mrs Hattermire quipped ever so haughtily. You blushed, for that was the irony of it all, an unclaimed Dam with 13 dwarves. 

Dori approved your attire and repacked it for you and the both of you set off to the company, stopping only for Dori to treat himself to a pouch of rose tea for later. After all it may be a long time before he has such luxury again.

"Lass! You can't wear such clothing!" Gloin bellowed once you returned, Dori glared at him.

"And why not?" Dori huffed, obviously trying to mother hen the only female in the group. Thorin and the others all looked at each other as if to ask if anyone knew what was going on.

"Because it's nae proper! Dwarven trousers no less! Looking like one of our own!"

" Dori has a wife called Bess?" Oin, bless his heart misheard.

"Well Master Gloin, I have only these and that in my pack to travel with. In my pack are much the same, but unless you want me to twirl around knocking orcs on to their backside with a view of my persons I guess I'll have to go through this journey naked!" You motioned to the belt and started to undo it, several protests sounded as Gloin spluttered redly and stopped you.

Fili had to look away, while his brother stood there grinning until he was alerted by Filis knock on the head and rough arm dragging him to the ponies.

"What? You want me to stop? Are my trousers suddenly acceptable master Gloin?" He nodded vigorously and you buckled yourself back up.

"Lady Olaila, a word if you please."

You wandered over to Thorin, who then proceeded to lecture you on how you were not acting proper among the men. A small argument with Gloin became a row with Thorin.

"WHY WOULD YOU EVEN THINK OF LOOKING LIKE A DRARROWDAM?! MAY YOUR FATHER'S HAIR WITHER!" The Durin king roared.

"MAY YOUR BEARD GROW WHITE AND THIN OAKENSHIELD, I DID WHAT WAS SENSIBLE!" This went on for a few minutes and was only stopped by Gandalf after mentioning that Olaila has passed her name day and was considered an adult.

"So you see Thorin, she can handle herself and was only defending her choices. I'm sure at her age you were just as stubborn for your decisions and right to defend them, maybe even more so."

Thorin grumbled at the point the wizard was making, although he guessed her to be 60 in hobbit years, he was a reckless young teen by dwarf years then. The lass did have enough smarts and tact to change from the billowy dresses of the Shire. They could have easily been grabbed by an enemy, and a stark breeze would have taken away any modesty her petticoats hid. He nodded and brushed her shoulder with a choice set of words. Words that stung and haunted her for weeks after.

"Just because you are dressing like my kin, my Lady, doesn't mean you will ever be seen as one."

Bilbo rushed to your side as your head dropped... That hurt. You were a Blacklock. Dwarven kin. Closing your eyes and taking a collective breath you followed to the ponies.

Maybe letting them think I was a hobbit wasn't the best idea... I'll tell them when the time is right.

Olaila was rather quiet for some of the journey after, thinking of Thorin's harsh words, not even Bofurs joke about a woodchuck and a barrel could get her to smile. Absentmindedly touching her hidden name sake bead, made of Mithril and jet. The courting bead of her Amad, given by her Adad. Bilbo patted her on the shoulder, and started to hum a song to her, a favourite theirs.

Near the end of the song she looked up to the front of the group, heart lightened by the tune and determination in her eyes. And ever so quietly sang the last line, not aware some of the group heard it, including Thorin himself.

"óró, sé do bheatha bhaile

anois ar theacht an tsamhraidh." *

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Authors Notes-
> 
> SONG- Óró sé do bheatha abhaile
> 
> *Sang in gaelic but in this case will be taken as a very ancient Khuzdul*
> 
> Translation
> 
> Oh-ro you are welcome home.
> 
> Now that summer's coming.
> 
>  
> 
> I hope you all liked the third chapter! I will hopefully start number 4 tomorrow.
> 
> Olaila B XX


	4. Chapter 4. Trolls?

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Some memories are relived, revelations come to light and you almost get skinned..... Bilbo hat have you done now?

That night the air was rather still. Situated near Nori and Bilbo you slept on a borrowed pack from Bifur, dreaming of your Amad and Adad, of a simpler time in the Iron hills.  
You open your eyes to see yourself outside your old home, the day sunny and the air cold and fresh on your face. The dog sleeping lazily near your doorstep, an old shaggy creature, but loyal as any. His name…. Oh what as his name?  
Ah! Dono, your Adad first got him when your Amad announced that she was expecting you, he was a russet houd, a dwarven race of dog in which he was small and stocky, and would live as long as his masters. You remember growing up with him, sneaking nasty vegetables under the table that he would gobble without question. You remember winters curled up with him by the fire on yuletide. A happy time.  
You walked up to the sleeping Dono,reaching as you did to pet him, noticing that your hand passed straight through him…  
Oh well it is a dream after all you thought whimsically.

You start to walk to the door when a young you bursts through, giggling and dragging your Amad by the hand. Her dark brown hair flailing in 2 large intricate braids by her bearded face.  
“Adad! To Adad! Jewelry, forges! You promised I’d start today!” You squeal in a muddled rush, ahh it was the day you had been permitted to the forges to see what your Adad was crafting and the day you made your first piece of jewelry. You must have been about 30, your pigtail braids and toothy grin told you that much.  
Seeing the carefree young you start to trot ahead with Amad in tow you smiled and followed.  
It would be good to see the old forges. Home away from the Shire.  
Billowing heat. Flashes of fire.  
So warm and inviting, the old forges of the Iron Hills were, you giggled at your younger self skipping through humming the song Bilbo sang to you earlier searching for a particular dwarf. Spotting a particularly large dwarf with a broad back and a thick brown braid clasped in complicated knotwork you waited at the salt line behind the station, which marked it safe from any fire or sparks.  
Turning your Adad smiled. A grin as wide as a battle axe shined at you.  
Olar Blacklock was the mightiest dwarf you had ever seen, I suppose all dads are when you were that small. He was tall for a dwarf and broad, with arms wide and covered in thick hair. His arms were your favourite part of him, they always gave the best hugs, and could scoop you up like you were a grain of sand that weighed nothing. Those arms made you feel safe, and you inherited much of his temperament and colouring. His big dark green eyes looked almost back in the lighting and his brown braided hair was singed just under his nose. Must've had an accident with one of the apprentices again.  
“Now theres my beautiful Olaurila! Are ye ready for yer lesson lass? First, looping metals in to a chain. After you have that it’s forging for you!”  
“Aye Adad! I will work hard and I am ready! Jet jewellers starts now!” You declared, making the men around you laugh, they knew of your dream.

That day you looped together what would become your necklace now, with 15 beads of varying stones and styles. Adad gave it to you as a congratulations, you were a regular at the forges every day since. You only learned the more intricate things before your Amad passed… You were going to the Blue mountains to visit kin and there was even talk of learning under the jewellers for the royal family. You took the name Olaila as was tradition in your clan for dwarflings not passed their name day, a new name for a new beginning. Your father chose the name as it was similar to your Iron hills name. When you lost your Adad you kept it in his memory. No longer Olaurila the young girl of the Iron hills… But Olaila of the Shire and where ever your dream took you.   
Your dream… To own your own shop and become a renowned jeweller.

And then the orcs came. A silent tear slid down your cheek in your sleep.

Bilbo couldn’t take Bombur's snoring any longer, he sat up and looked over to you, hoping you were not bothered by such a loud drone. Noting your shivering form he draped his cloak over you and brushed the hair from your face. Walking over to the ponies the sprightly hobbit found his own filly, Myrtle, whom he named himself. Looking back to see the princes distracted he produced a shiny red apple from his pocket and fed it to the filly.  
Stroking her fluffy nose he asked her to keep it as their little secret, happy for a moment of normalcy in this big adventure he had gotten you both mixed up in. He looked over to you once more, seeing your face near the fire, the tear that slid down your cheek as glowing with the fires reflection, making it appear as if you were crying pure amber.

The corners of Bilbo's mouth tugged down, his sister was a strong soul, not liking to cry unless necessary.   
Must be dreaming of Auntie Morai he thought, she was so very much like her mother, not liking physical things, more the memory and wisdom of the things themselves. Memories to Olaila were more precious than any dress or trinket, opposite of Bilbo in a way.   
A distant scream brought him out of his thoughts, running over to the Durin princes by the fire he asks “What was that?”  
“Orcs…” To this Thorin jerks awake.  
“Orcs?” Bilbo moves closer to his sister, not liking the sound of this.  
“Throatcutters. There’ll be dozens of them out there. The lowlands are crawling with them.”  
“They strike in the wee small hours, when everyone’s asleep. Quick and quiet; no screams, just lots of blood.”  
Bilbo flashes a worried look to Olaila, blood and death…. Not good at all. A small laugh brings him back to the boys.  
“You think that’s funny? You think a night raid by orcs is a joke?” Thorin growls out, looking at the princes as if dragonfire would come out of his eyes any second.  
“We didn’t mean anything by it.” Kili says in a small voice. “No, you didn’t. You know nothing of the world.”  
Balin shuffles in to the group as Thorin walks a few steps, looking out and surveying the area. The night was dark but the moon and stars were strong and bright, Thorin cast a sideways glance back to Balin as he speaks. “Don’t mind him, laddie. Thorin has more cause than most to hate orcs. After the dragon took the Lonely Mountain, King Thror tried to reclaim the ancient dwarf kingdom of Moria. But our enemy had got there first.”  
Bilbo heard the tale in awe, learning of Thorins hardships, the dwarves are a tough race. Through all the hardships they face there is always hope. A sentence caught his attention-  
“I tell you if Olar wasn’t still mourning the loss of his daughter and wife he’d be telling you this tale in greater detail Master Baggins. Blacklocks are renowned for their memory and storytelling skills. He may be over 200 but that old man is stubborn and would fight for glory so he can be with his beloved Morai and Olaurila. Last of the Blacklocks he is, I correspond with him in the Iron hills where he is Dains weaponsmith now and again.” The dwarf rambled on...  
The Hobbits eyes widened and his head snapped in the direction of his sister who stirred ever so slightly, the last one asleep as the others had awoken to the story of Moria. Her father! He recognised that name anywhere, Auntie Morai wove tales of him enough and he knew Olis old name. He was alive! He started to smile at the sleeping dam.  
“She sure can sleep Master Baggins,” Nori comments “What could she be dreaming of that keeps her that subdued.”

 

“Well I guess Nori… She is dreaming of her dream. You all know my sister is a talented jeweller, taught by her… I mean our mother.” he corrected himself just in time.  
“She wants to own her own place one day, to work and sell her wares by her own name and hand. My sister has faced some hardships gentlemen.” He walks to her and crouches down, the tear long gone but the necklace slipping out of her collar. Tucking it back in she snuggles her face in to the crook of his wrist.   
“So why bring her on this quest?” Thorin asks.  
“Because… She deserves a chance at a happy life, to live her dream. And with the 14th share? I guess I will help her achieve it.” Looking determined the hobbit faces the dwarves. Balin didn’t amend the contract when she signed, so in a technicality she had no share, she was in it for nothing so it would seem. Bilbo was still a Baggins and read the whole thing, twice over as Bungo had taught him, he knew of this and was sure to give his sister the means to start her own life once this whole thing was over.

\-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

 

Rain…. First there were drips of it, then drops of it, then a downpour. Lifting her face Olaila welcomed the sky's tears. The other dwarves grumbled and muttered, clearly none of them have lived in the Iron Hills in the late summer, where a downpour like this was common for a tuesday at teatime.  
Bofur had offered you his hat when he noticed you wouldn’t put up your hood. You smiled happily and declined thanking him all the same. But you let the rain soak into your hair and in to your eyes. It was refreshing and woke you up inside and out.   
Dwalin was looking at you, a small smile tugging at his lips hidden by his beard. The big tough guy looked at you quiet alot, although you nor anyone but Balin noticed. Your happy view on the rain made him chuckle, and when you flashed a vibrant smile his way he suddenly looked ahead and trotted up to Thorin… He couldn’t…. No he SHOULDN’T be feeling this way about a lass he has only known for a short time, let alone a Hobbit lass. He shook his head and joined the others in their silence.  
You seemed to be the only one enjoying the weather, as Dori called out to Gandalf-  
“Here, Mr. Gandalf, can’t you do something about this deluge?”  
“It is raining, Master Dwarf, and it will continue to rain until the rain is done. If you wish to change the weather of the world, you should find yourself another wizard.” At this you fought the laughter bubbling in you chest and big your knuckle to stay quiet.  
Your brother spoke next- “Are there any?”  
“What?”  
“Other wizards?”  
“There are five of us. The greatest of our order is Saruman, the White. Then there are the two Blue Wizards; you know, I’ve quite forgotten their names.”  
“Alatar and Pallando my dear Gandalf!” You yelled ahead. “Come on Bilbo you surely read the books in the old museum at the Shire? Or as I the only one interested in the world outside our front door?”  
Bilbo shook his head and ignored your jibe. Gandalf's eyebrows flew up at your knowledge of the other wizards names, a pleasant surprise indeed.  
“And who is the fifth?”   
“Well, that would be Radagast, the Brown.” Gandalf replied happily.  
“Is he a great Wizard or is he...more like you?”  
Oh my, Bilbo even Lobelia Sackville-Baggins has more manners than that!   
“I think he’s a very great wizard, in his own way. He’s a gentle soul who prefers the  
company of animals to others. He keeps a watchful eye over the vast forest lands to the East, and a good thing too, for always Evil will look to find a foothold in this world.”

\------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Arriving at an old burnt out house, you sigh, tired and sore from the horse riding.   
“We’ll camp here for the night. Fili, Kili, look after the ponies. Make sure you stay with them.”  
You could have kissed Thorin there and then for the blessed words he spoke.   
“Oin, Gloin.”  
The firey red headed Dwarf replied after helping you off your horse “Aye?”  
Get a fire going.”  
“Right you are, Lady Olaila would you help us with the veggies for this soup? Bilbo said you rather enjoyed parsnips?” You beamed at him and nodded, grabbing the root vegetables and peeler from the smiling Bombur, who was rather happy with parsnip himself. He decided to use some potatoes and meat too, just so everyone was happy. Not everyone ate vegetables like you or Bilbo. Setting down on a rock you began peeling the skins in to a small sack.  
“Bombur if you roast these skins with some cheese they make great nibbles while the stew cooks! I’ll give you them once these are peeled.”  
The rotund Bombur gave you a confused look. But nodded in agreement, Cheesy parsnip skins? Well if it keeps the men happy who was he to refuse the Lady Olaila?  
Peeling happily in your own little world with Bilbo beside you both look up to hear the slowly rising voices of Thorin and the wizard.  
“You are neither of them. I did not give you that map and key for you to hold on to the past.”  
“I did not know that they were yours to keep.”

Bilbo gets up to speak to the stomping wizard, who looked rather annoyed if you say so yourself.  
“Everything alright? Gandalf, where are you going?”  
“To seek the company of the only one around here who’s got any sense other than your sister.”  
“Who’s that?”  
“Myself, Mr. Baggins! I’ve had enough of dwarves for one day. I mean no off-”  
“It’s alright Gandalf, here, for your walk” You reply brightly, and chuck a puch of blackberries and wildflower buds you have foraged the other day. The buds were edible and had a rather sweet taste, almost like a sugared rhubarb.   
He inclined his head in thanks and stormed off.   
“Come on, Bombur, we’re hungry.”  
“Is he coming back?” Bilbo asked curiously, to Balin, who himself looked rather unsure. But his mind was already asking questions… namely.  
Why did gandalf mean no offence to the Lady Olaila? She is a hobbit? But then again why would a hobbit wear thick dwarven boots if not to fit in to the company?

Giving a delighted hum at the parsnip and rabbit soup you gave Bombur your compliments as the men in return complimented your idea for the skins. Sitting beside Dalin and Nori you had found your bowl filled with parsnip chunks, apparently Dwalin and Ori weren’t appreciative of the vegetable and Nori chucked his in for fun.   
Tucking in the bowl was empty just as fast, readying to collect the bowls you heard the men thank you in khuzdul. Balin watched your reaction as you smiled at them, seeming to understand, and even blush at Dwalins nickname of “shining star” or shinuroz kor.  
She can’t be…   
“Trolls! Bilbo! Ponies, trolls have the….. Ponies!” Kili and Fili burst through the trees and you drop your bowls, getting your axes ready and asking for the direction.  
The dwarves get as much information out of the boys as they can and ready themselves for an attack. “Lady Olaila I must ask you to stay here.” Thorin decreed while moving to the trees.  
“What? WHY?” You almost yell.  
“I will not have a she-hobbit in a possible fight, let alone with three trolls, one who has two dangling axes on chains and doesn't know how to use them in battle.”  
You huff and remind him of the incident in Bag End, but he was unrelenting, you ignore him and begin to walk in the direction of your brother when Thoin yells at you.  
“Othok var not take ein step furthrumm halfluroz!”*  
Stopping and standing straighter than ever you push Kili forward, not biting at all and telling him to lead the way.  
Fili looks back at his uncle who is seeing red at this point and begins to follow. The dwarves know she will get punished for that, but then who could blame her, how could she possibly know khuzdul?  
\------------------------------------------------------

Swarming the trolls you got the one named William, and let Shatter do the work this time. You plant your feet like you have been trained and swing her behind you, only to flick her forward fast enough to spin like a top. Shatter is the thicker of the two axe heads and she hits William at blinding speed, knocking his shins and making him fall to the ground.   
Stopping to survey his face you find a nice fleshy weak spot.  
You whip Shatter hard down and the chains lock in to a pole formation, making her a rigid normal axe. Clever Iron hills mechanics you see. You land a thick cracking blow on Williams cheek, and some of his teeth go flying, Shatter lives up to her name, as well as leaving a long precise cut. All the while your feet move in a swift sliding motion, the classic Blacklock style. Your weight was behind each footfall, locking in place and making your footing as sure as the stones itself.

You turn and see Bilbo get grabbed by the biggest. A terrified NO escapes your lips. Thorin shoves his sword in the ground and you are forced to drop your girls, and you fall to the ground on your knees. Deflated and scared for Bilbo you let the trolls throw you into a sack.  
A stinky rough sack tied up to your neck.  
“Don’t bother cooking them. Let’s just sit on them and squash them into jelly”  
“They should be sautéed and grilled with a sprinkle of sage.”  
“Ooh, that does sound quite nice.” The Trolls talk about how to season you all, and you curse this quest, you curse Thorin and his idea about taking back a mountain.   
“Untie us, you monsters!”  
“It’s been a long time since we had dwarf, actually some 50 years back isn't it?”  
“Well actually I recall we had orc William, the dwarves were their prisoners… Proper maddening they gave us the slip and ran off, but the orc did well for a while.” The trolls were still talking, a piece of information that you really should be listening to, but you were too worried looking at Dwalins panicked face while he turned on the spit. Every time he turned to your side his deep eyes reconnected with yours and you hated when he was turned the other away. 

You admit it…. You liked the dwarf. He kept you safe in your travels, smiled and laughed at your jokes, kept you close by the fire when sleeping and always woke you in the mornings, gently, with a soft pat on your shoulder and a “Lass, it’s time to wake up.”   
He was the first face you saw on the mornings and you wished you could have that forever… you were falling, hard and fast.   
Little did anyone know that he was having the same feelings, panic rising in him as he was being turned, not looking in your green eyes long enough. Mahal dammit all he thought, I am happy to be in love with a Hobbit. Yet here I am about to be roasted on a spit! Wriggling against the ropes he wanted to tell her, all of it, everything, how he felt connected to her in a way only described as being Ones. A dwarf and a Hobbit….   
If only he knew.

“Wait! You are making a terrible mistake.”  
Bilbo piped up interrupting your staring contest with Dwalin.  
“You can’t reason with them, they’re half-wits!”  
“Half-wits? What does that make us?” Oh Bofur now’s not the time you crack a small smile.  
“Uh, I meant with the, uh, with, uh, with the seasoning.” SEASONING?! Bilbo! You groan internally now is really not the time!   
“What about the seasoning?”  
“Well have you smelt them? You’re going to need something stronger than sage before you plate this lot up.” Id recommend basil and lemongrass but- wait off topic here BIlbo what are you doing?  
“Tell us the secret.”  
“Ye--yes, I’m telling you, the secret is … to skin them first!”   
“Tom, get me the filleting knife.” aaaaand you’re an idiot brother….  
“What a load of rubbish! I’ve eaten plenty with their skins on. Scuff them, I say, boots and all.” You see Bilbo look to the trees, Gandalf! OH! Hes trying to stall! Bilbo you genius!  
“Not--not that one, he--he’s infected!”  
Tom the troll stops and looks at the hobbit surprised. “Yeah, He’s got worms in his … tubes.In-in fact they all have, they’re infested with parasites. It’s a terrible business; I wouldn’t  
risk it, I really wouldn’t.”  
Oins selective hearing came in to play here “Parasites, did he say parasites?”  
“We don’t have parasites! You have parasites!”  
Thorin kicks the others and you yell-  
“MY parasites will make you sick for days on end!” Then the others caught on, thank Mahal they’re not so stupid after all!

You see Gandalf atop a rock, the suns rays peeking over the top in orange hues.  
“Let the dawn take you all!” he shouts as he splits the rock, turning the trio of trolls to stone. You let out a sigh of relief and flop back on Oin. Taking a collective breath the silence is interrupted by Dwalins “Oh, get your foot out of my back!”  
You smile, you may have a chance to be with that great big oaf after all.  
As everyone is freed from the sacks Gandalf and Thorin talk. You storm past and begin to curse you your brother angrily stomping to him;  
“Don’t you ever scare me like that again Bilbo Baggins! Or else you’ll be missing second breakfast and supper for a month! You had me so scared” You started to cool off and threw yourself in to him for a bear hug hile blabbering on almost in tears.  
“I’d rather eat Lobelias fish pie forever than stand to lose you and I can't believe you...”   
You hugged him long and hard until you separated and Gandalf mentioned a cave.   
More specifically a troll horde.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Translations-  
> You will not take one step further halfling! *
> 
> Thank you for reading the 4th chapter! I know some details may be confusing but I made it a tradition for and drarrow that haven't passed their name day in the Blacklock clan have to change their name. Names give away a lot about yourself so for safety dwarflings, pebbles and teen dwarves have to change it. It’s a minor detail but important later! Thank you and I’ll see you in a few days for the 5th chapter! 
> 
> Olaila B xxx


	5. Caves and close calls.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A cave reveals hidden secrets and a terrible accident befalls our Dam.

The first thing that you noticed about the troll hoard was the stench and how it made you gag. Never had you smelled something so vile! Covering your nose with your hand you grimaced as the others made their way inside. The stench will definitely seep in to their clothing you thought miserably, more washing for you…

 

Olaila shook her head and decided to bite the proverbial arrow, following the group in last, slowly and carefully keeping her nose covered.  
“Oh, what’s that stench?!” Nori couldn’t take the smell either, much to her amused smile.   
“It’s a troll hoard. Be careful what you touch.” Gandalf replied, looking amongst the treasures piled high within the cave.  
You couldn’t believe how much stuff there was! Chests of coins, gems, weapons alike all scattered and balanced atop the other. But these were the possessions of dead men, all eaten by the trolls, you face softened as the negative thoughts filled your brain. Nobody deserved to die like this…  
“Seems a shame just to leave it lyin’ around. Anyone could take it.” Bofur’s foot knocked against a chest with his hands on his hips. Gloin had a rather smart idea, and turning to the spymaster he replied rather whimsically,   
“Agreed. Nori, get a shovel.”

“A shovel? Really, now isn't the time to be burying treasure” you chuckled at them, adjusting to the smell enough to wrinkle your nose and uncover it. They looked at you if you were mad, but Nori had indeed grabbed a shovel and started to dig. Dwarves… Typical and also hypocritical.  
Bilbo kept close to you, the threats of losing second breakfast and supper still very serious to him. No Hobbit would risk that. Especially while on the road like this, where food was huntable and forageable. Thorin and Gandalf were looking at swords you noticed, 3 of them covered in thick cobwebs, 2 longer and one thicker than the others. You walk over to see what they looked like, your curiosity getting the better of you.   
“These swords were not made by any troll.” Gandalf inspected one of the swords, while Thorin held the other in his hands.  
“Nor were they made by any smith among men.” Gandalf unsheathes his sword and notes the keen edge of the blade.   
“These were forged in Gondolin by the High Elves of the First Age.” They were certainly beautiful, you smiled at them and as Thorin starts to put his sword and the other one back. Digust at the fact elves forged them evident on his regal face.  
“You could not wish for a finer blade.” Turning back you note Dwalin looking rather sour as the others had filled the chest and began to place the earth atop it.   
“We’re makin’ a long term deposit.” They defended themselves to the bald Dwarf, as they just finished Thorin declared it was time to go, shoving the last sword in Balin's hand asking him to open it in the light as the catch was fiddly.  
“Let’s get out of this foul place. Come on, let’s go. Bofur! Gloin! Nori!”  
Upon exiting the cave the group start to gather as Balin unclasps the catch on the thicker sword, sheathed in a thick black leather. Olaila furrows her brow as she swears it looks familiar… Gandalf and Bilbo join after a brief discussion, the Hobbit himself had a new sword now.  
Gasps fill the air, along with a few “By my beards” and breaths of “Mahal” at the sight of the dwarven sword.

“This sword is of Dwarvish make, thick and sturdy. Easy to handle, the runes on the handle…. Thorin, I know this sword.” The would be King takes the handle from Balin, pleased to have found a sword worth using. He unsheathes it fully, it is a slanted thick sword (Think smaller Buster Sword from FF7) with runes along the blade, in the light the metal was tinged black at the end. It was stained black from orc blood Thorin realised, this blade had seen death more than any other.  
Your gasp drew Thorin out of his daze, you pushed gently through the men and Thorin passed the blade to you. It seemed you liked the sword, swinging it in a figure 8 motion, then slicing the air in a way that made the blade sing a deep hum. Your eyes stung as you inspected the blade, you knew this blade. You grew up with this blade. You carved the very runes on the handle when your Adad was teaching you to engrave metals.

 

“You seem comfortable with that blade my lady?” Thorin asked gently, Olaila nodded silently as her hands shook delicately, something is wrong.   
Dwalin and Bofur picked up on this, the girl looked ready to collapse, taking a step closer they exchanged a look, if she falls both take an arm and stop her from hitting her head.  
Balin walked up to her, he wanted his suspicions confirmed. With a slight firmness to his voice that surprised even Dwalin, he took her chin in his hands and forced her to look at him. Her eyes were shining with unshed tears.  
“This is the storm seeker blade. How do you know this sword, do you know who it belonged to?”   
Balin’s face was set like the stone, Olaila knew he knew. She had to tell them, nodding solemnly she realised that if this sword was here her Adad was eaten by trolls.   
“Its….” Her voice cracking softly as the group looked on, Thorin pressed on and asked her Balins question again. Ordering her to answer as a member of the company, he himself not sure how a hobbit lass would know of a dwarven sword. She looked Thorin dead in the eyes and spoke, watching for his reaction before any others.  
“It’s my Adads blade, Olar Blacklock, Son of Mokar. Jewelsmith to the Iron Hills…” The silence stretched, Thorin's face gaped in realisation, the dwarves around him catching on to the only fact they now knew for sure. Olaila was not a hobbit. Dwalin spoke,  
“You're a dwarrowdam aren’t you? You’re a dwarf!” Balin knew it! HE knew it! Smiling and patting your cheeks gently as the tears began to fall,   
“Your Olars long lost daughter aren't you? Olaurila Blacklock? Or should I say Olaila B, Olaila Blacklock?” Dropping you your knees and nodding as your voice found itself, a torn wail of grief and relief left your mouth as Balin hugged you close.

The truth was out. Bilbo took it upon himself to explain your history and reasoning to the Company, as Balin and no Dwalin calmed you in their arms. Thorin asking as many questions as he could to get the full story. Working out the math Ori confirmed her age, Olaila let loose her hair revealing the beaded braid that proved her lineage to be true. The dwarves at a loss for words. Bilbo then mentioned how the trolls talked about dwarves escaping 50 odd years ago, which means your father must be alive but left his sword behind. Olailas tears slowed then, a renewed hope in her eyes as Thorin confirmed him alive and the weapon smith for Dain.   
Thorin looked at you with a small pity, at having lost so much. How strong you could be to lose your life and make as much of your new one. But as quickly as his pity came it left. Anger and betrayal swiftly replacing it.  
“Why didn’t you tell us! YOU OR YOUR BROTHER?! WE HAVE TO LEAVE YOU AT THE NEXT TOWN! NO DAM CAN BE ENDANGERED LIKE THIS! “  
Thorin thundered, you shrunk in to Dwalin- who himself was pleased as punch at the closeness and the realisation she was a dwarf. He growled at Thorin’s harshness, but understood. Dams are rare, are protected fiercely by those men in her family, they can’t be lost or put in danger by a quest.   
“With all due respect Thorin,” Bilbo interjected to protect his sister in her vulnerable state, “I couldn't tell you as it is not my place, out of respect for my sister I let her decide if the time was right to tell you all. Olaila will not be left behind like a child. She is here to protect me, but I want her here to have a chance at a life outside of the Shire. She is my Bodyguard and she will only go if i tell her, your Kin or not.” He stood his ground in front of the Dwarven king to be and held his head high, defiance in his very spirit.   
Olaila looked at Bilbo in awe, he never mentioned he was doing this for her! Today became a bit too much for her, her father is dead by trolls, he’s alive in the iron hills, the company know what she is AND her brother is the best brother a girl could ask for. A watery smile graced her as she passed her blade to Dwalin, and rose to hug Bilbo from behind, tears dripping over his shoulder and on to his coat. He didn’t care, the “Thank you” whispered in his ear was enough to make him smile. Thorin rubbed at his temples, clearly it was too much information in such a short space of time. It all made sense, everything clicked, but he couldn’t let her be hurt in this journey, it’d be the worst thing he could ever do.   
“I cannot guarantee her safety Master burglar, she is my kin. If she is to stay she needs a guardian of a dwarven line or a suit to keep her safe. I will give you to the next town, if she has not agreed to either by any of us, then she is to be left behind. IF you do not accept we leave her now, do we have a deal?” Thorin was very diplomatic in this, he noticed Dwalin straighten up and stand with her blade in hand at the mention of a suit.   
Thorin wasn’t stupid, he could see his friend cared for her, they have even talked of it once on watch, quietly and away from the company. Dwalin cared a little at that point, but denied he could feel such a way about a Hobbit. Now Olaila was in fact a Dam he knew the instincts of Ones would take over his friend, he would be protective to the death for her. Dwalin must be in love with her by now. If she couldn’t hold her own he would lose Dwalin too. But seeing her against the trolls he knew it could work…  
Holding out his hand he waited for Bilbo, he didn’t have to wait long as Bilbo took the hand and shook, tightening to add one more stipulation to the deal before letting go.  
“She gets hurt at any point before the next town Thorin you take responsibility and let her come anyway. Deal?” Thorin shook confidently at that and turned to the group. The younger dwarves started to preen a little, as a dam as fine as Olaila was rare. Dwalin would be beating them away with his axes by tomorrow. Handing the blade back as well as the sheath Olaila attached it to her belt. She had her Adad by her side and just as the first dwarf (Nori) Stepped up to ask for her suit a loud shouting broke the calm of the group.

“Thieves! Fire! Murder!” A strange man on a sled of rabbits yelled haphazardly.  
“Radagast! Radagast the Brown. Ah. What on earth are you doing here?”  
“I was looking for you, Gandalf. Something’s wrong. Something’s terribly wrong.”  
“Yes?” The dwarves started to listen in except for Olaila and Dwalin, who had now stepped in front of her to shield her from any danger. Looking down at her hand Olaila was pleasantly surprised to see another holding it, a genuine warm smile lit her features as her hand tightened around his. Looking back Dwalin smiled and softly spoke to her. Private words the others couldn’t hear. Soft words of pure love, the purest he could muster at this time.  
“I will protect you even after the next town, on my word. Amralime” Your heart sung at the words, your feelings were mutual, you knew you had found your suit. Your One. At the next stop you were going to ask Dwalin if you could braid his hair.   
“Oh, just give me a minute. Um, oh, I had a thought, and now I’ve lost it. It was, it was right there, on the tip of my tongue.”  
“Oh, it’s not a thought at all; it’s a silly old... “stick insect!”

 

\-----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

 

Running, always running- Oliala thought with a bitter pant. They were running from a pack of wargs and orcs, thank Mahal for Radagast. Those rabbits of his as fast as lightning.  
Gandalf ushered the company on in the panic “Come on!”  
The Company rushed across a rocky plain. In the distance, Radagast is being chased by the Wargs. One of them crashes while trying to catch him, those rabbits were indeed fast! As the Company runs across the plain it is clear a warg caught a whiff of something different. Hiding behind rocks you push Ori and Bilbo back and ready Storm Seeker. Nobody is going to die today.  
“Stay together.  
Thorin hurriedly pushes the company one by one “Move!”  
As the Company runs, Radagast drives his sled beneath an overhanging projection of rock; he ducks, but the Orc on the Warg behind him gets knocked off. One down many to go!   
After a close call with Ori Thorin asks Gandalf desperately “Where are you leading us?”  
Gandalf doesn’t answer. With the dwarves taking cover behind a rock you pray to Mahal you get through this in one piece. A scout and his Warg appear on top of the rock you are all hiding on, scenting the air. Thorin looks at Kili and nods; readying an arrow, Kili quickly steps out and shoots the Warg. The Warg and the orc on it fall near the dwarves, another one down… But the sounds of their fight carry in the air. No doubt the other Wargs and Orcs will stop chasing Radagast now.  
Gandalf was the first to confirm your suspicions. “Move. Run!” More running! Who would have guessed?   
“There they are!” Blast, seen!   
“There’s more coming!”   
“Kili! Shoot them!” You see Kili ready his arrows and bow. This really isn’t how you want to die, but if you need to you will!   
Fili begins to shout aloud “We’re surrounded!  
“Where is Gandalf?” His brother calls back, shooting arrow after arrow. Hitting target after target, he was truly an excellent marksman.  
“He has abandoned us!” Dwalin and Thorin join the yelling now “Hold your ground!”  
“This way, you fools!” Gandalf is back, behind a rock, pointing to a way out of this hell. You push Bilbo and keep near Kili, he may need someone to cover his back.  
The rest take the hint and follo Bilbo and Thorin.“Come on, move! Quickly, all of you! Go, go, go!” You silently count as the company disappear…. 8...9….10.

 

 

“Kili! Run!” Olaila springs in to action, Earth in one hand and Storm Seeker in the other. Her sight set on covering Kilis back as he starts to run to his uncle. Almost there… A foolhardy Warg pounces at the both of them, teeth bared, ready to bite and tear flesh. Olaila swings Earths handle hard in to Kilis back, retracting the chains back she flips Earth over. Kili knocks in to Thorin hard sending them both down as Thorin's last sight was Olaila being pinned by the warg.  
A chorus of “No!”, “Lass!” and her name call from the rock, as Olaila stabs the Warg with Storm seeker. Rolling out of the way of the fallen beast Olaila and the orc exchange blows of blade and steel. Headbutting the orc and slashing it in the gut with Earth she fails to notice the cut on her forehead from the impact. Surrounded once more by wargs she calls out as the orcs jump from their mounts and start a fight outnumbering our dear Dam.  
“Run you stupid dwarves! Urgh, Get…. Fuck …. AH OUt OF HERE NoW” The Dwarves try to scramble up the hill once more but to no avail, Thorin, Bilbo and Dwalin the worst in the fray of panic. Then… a silence as Olaila screams once more. Nothing. Thorin pales, either hurt or lost, he has failed her. Either she is dead and he was right about leaving her behind, or she is hurt and Bilbos wager was in play that she had to come along the whole journey… But at what cost? How badly hurt was she? The Durin dwarf had never hoped to be wrong so much in his life before.  
A horn sounds and they all exchange a look.   
“Elves.” With adrenaline and fear in their veins Gandalf convinced them to begin following the path, the elves would get her fixed up surely they all thought. Upon exiting they see why Gandalf had been so eager to leave Olaila behind, Rivendell. If the elves found her she would be brought here! “This was your plan all along, to seek refuge with our enemy.”  
“You have no enemies here, Thorin Oakenshield. The only ill-will to be found in this valley is that which you bring yourself.” Gandalf brushed off the accusation as he thought of the Dam they had to leave in the valley. Surely they would find her? Bring her back?  
“You think the Elves will give our quest their blessing? They will try to stop us.”  
“Of course they will. But we have questions that need to be answered and a Dam that needs to be returned to us and healed. If we are to be successful, this will need to be handled with tact and respect and no small degree of charm. Which is why you will leave the talking to me.”

Olaila woke atop a horse, her head pounding and in the arms of an elf, looking up her eyes connected with his. He had a warm gentle face, dark hair, deep eyes… She’d later learn his name, Lord Elrond.  
“Shh my lady, you passed out when we arrived to your air, a warg kicked you in to a rock, your forehead is cut and you may have a slight concussion. Sleep, for we will be at my home soon. Sleep.” Her eyes drifted closed as the pain became too much, Elrond smiling at the fierce warrior in his arms. She had managed to only leave 2 orcs alive, the rest littered by her feet as she lost consciousness. Elrond had asked another Elf to hold her blade and axes. A small smile upon his face he kept watching her as she slept, this Dam was something.  
Olaila slept soundly in his arms, thinking of the Company.  
Would they find her?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for reading chapter 5! 
> 
> I've been combining some chapters together as otherwise theyd be super short.  
> Next chapter will be up in a few days!   
>  Olaila B xxxx


	6. Lord Elrond welcomes a lady

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The Elves welcome the company... a little bit of semi steamy fluff for your liking too!

Rivendell was indeed a beautiful place, Bilbo couldn’t deny that. The lush greenery could put even The Shire to shame. The days light thew a warm glow upon the wild flowers, making the valley appear brighter and more colourful than any stained glass window or treasure chest. This is what Bilbo valued, nature, greenery. The very earth he walked upon was buzzing with life, Bilbo could get used to this. Getting lost in nature, getting lost in The Shire… home. Bilbo began to truly miss home.   
Following the formation of Dwarves down the craggy path Bilbo worried about his sister. They left her behind, not knowing of her fate. Wounded or dead he did not know. Deep within his chest a weight hung, the weight of pure and utter guilt. He wanted to turn back, to go see if she still breathed. If not… he didn’t want to think of it. What a terrible brother I am… who knows how the others are feeling. The path lead to grass, pure green grass that felt soft beneath his feet. He hoped the elves to be hospitable, he hoped even more so that they had his sister. IF he lost her now, then his choice to join the quest would be mostly a waste. He would finish the adventure and help the dwarves, they deserved a home. But the cost may have already been too great.

Dwalin felt hollow, how life could be so cruel as to bless him with his One then take her away was too much to bear. How could Gandalf leave her behind in that valley? When they reach Rivendell he swore to give him a piece of his mind and maybe a fist or two for good measure. He had failed before being her suit even began, he said he’d protect her. He wanted to braid her hair and court her, he wanted to ask her to marry him after Erebor was reclaimed. Yet she wasn’t here, stepping into the next town with them… His mind to addled to focus. The rest of The Company fared no better. They were all in a silent mourning, thinking of their time with their Lady. Regret hung heavy in the air. Thorin glared daggers in to the back of Gandalf's head, angry at the wizard for abandoning her. They were all to blame, but a proper burial would have been the first step in earning her forgiveness.   
She would receive a royal burial when Erebor is reclaimed, in return for saving Kili Thorin concluded. Thorin’s heart lurched at how her sacrifice saved his sisters son. Yet he was fairly certain the pain of losing either to be the same, whoever died never being able to see Erebor, to enjoy the fruits of their labour.  
Gandalf lead them to the bridge, he and Bilbo basking in the beauty of the last homely house east of the sea. The company shift uneasily, this is not friendly territory. The elves of Rivendell towered above them, Gandalf being the only one tall enough to look the elves in the eye. These creatures moved gracefully, as if the very air they walked in flowed like water. Dwarves were stockier folk, hardy in nature and looks.   
Little fish in a very big pond.  
Stopping upon a platform the Company came to a halt, there stood a dark haired elf upon the stairs. A small smile tugged at his lips as he descended to stand before Gandalf.  
“Mithrandir.” he greeted, Gandalf was known to these elves. Thorin was worried before, but now his worry was justified. 

“Ah, Lindir!” Gandalf smiled happily at seeing his old friend, distracted they begin to converse. Thorin doesn’t like this, not one bit. Looking at his friend Dwalin, he took the opportunity to whisper to him while Gandalf seemed busy.  
“Stay sharp.” Lindir as Thorin now knew him spoke in elvish, a language he did not know or even care to know. The situation seeming less and less in their favour.  
“I must speak with Lord Elrond.” Inching his hand to his new sword, Thorin braced himself.

“My lord Elrond is not here.”  
“Not here? Where is he?” where indeed.   
Suddenly, the same Elvish horns from earlier ring in the air. Thorin and his Company turn around as a group of armed horsemen approach,   
“Ifridî bekâr!*” Thorin calls to his men, Bilbo was pushed to the middle, surrounded safely on all sides. “Hold ranks!”  
The mounted Elves arrive and ride in circles around the dwarven group, effectively trapping them in the circle they formed to protect Bilbo. Nori looked for an opening, if anyone could sneak around them to attack it was him. Eventually, the riders stop their mounts and one elf, Elrond, separates himself from the others. Thorin stills, in the arms of the elf was a body, a small body covered in dried blood, both red and black. Olaila. Thorin steps forward, a small “no“ escaping his lips as the worst comes to mind. Dwalin is terribly pale and has to grab on to Bilbo who in turn has to grab on to Dwalin to keep steady. Is she alive?   
“She still breathes Thorin, son of Thrain, son of Thror. Concussed mainly, but she fought well. Our healers will see to her, she will be up and dancing by the afternoon and the cut on her head a faint scar, but maybe you need to speak to her. Little star, I ask you to wake, we are here. Your friends are waiting.“  
The body in his arms shifted and a deep exhale left the small bundle. The closest of them, Thorin took her hand, cold and small in his own. The Company encircled them, giving just enough room for Olaila to be seen by all and for her to have room to breathe. Her eyes opened first, focusing from the sleep she looked at Elrond with a small smile. Elrond kneels ever so slightly to allow her to see her friends and pass her to Oin and Thorin, he decided this was a suitable time to address Gandalf and give the dwarves time alone. Olaila craned her neck as the figures in front of her focused, the concussion making it hard to see clearly. The faces sharpened, her friends were here. Tears escaped her eyes as she smiled, they are safe thank Mahal. Bilbo broke first, tears falling rapidly as he gently touched her face. Not long after Ori cracked, then Balin and even Gloin.  
“Thank goodness you’re alright. You sure you’re alright? No more injuries?“ He spoke quietly, tenderly. The moment between them all pure and heartwarming. Oliala nodded to answer the first then shook to answer the second as her voice failed her. Satisfied with the silent answers he shuffled to the left of her, reaching back to grab Dwalins arm and usher him to her. 

His face was stoic, trying to remain calm as she smiled at him. Her hand reached out to him palm up, her face said all he needed to know. She was asking him, using her eyes to convey her intent, she was asking him to accept her suit. Shaking his head with a watery chuckle, Dwalin took her hand and knelt by her. Nori, Bofur, Kili and Filis eyes saddened ever so slightly at the scene in front of them, nobody else would be asking her for a suit. SHE had chosen... and she chose Dwalin.   
“Shinuroz kor …**“ Pressing his forehead to hers as gently as he could Dwalin lifted her out of Thorin and Oin’s arms, her hand left Thorin as she held the tattooed Dwarfs face in her palms, a habit that’d last their entire lives.   
“Amralime***“, Her reply confirmed the feelings they shared. The tender moment held as Gandalf and Elrond chatted and smiled at the new couple, Ori quickly scribing the events in to his book, noting things to add later. Elrond spoke in elvish and the Dwarves stiffened again,  
“What is he saying? Does he offer us insult?” Gloin spoke gruffly, not trusting the elf just yet.   
“No, master Gloin, he’s offering you food. And also a healer and a bath for our Lady”   
Murmuring amongst themselves Olaila reached for Oin, ever so quietly asking him to join her to witness elven medicine. For she knew of his secret fascination with the craft. Oin beamed, nodding feverently.  
“Ah well, in that case, lead on.” Gloin decided. Food didn’t sound bad at all.

 

After a healer saw to your cut and concussion Dwalin insisted carrying you to the next stop, protective of his One. You felt fine, better than fine even. Oin had taken notes and thanked the healers for helping you so, asking if you would join him for food. But you needed to bathe, and get the dried blood from your body, in fact so did the others and you told him as much. The elleths had a lavender and violet bath prepared for you, looking to Dwalin you insisted he go bathe with the others and wait until called for. You didn’t want him to see you naked… yet. The elleths helped wash your skin and hair, drying it slightly with a fluffy towel. You asked to stay in your bathing shift to truly let you worries soak out of your bones. They agreed it would be good to help you relax after the earlier trauma and excused themselves to only ask your companion to come back and guard you, lest you fall asleep in the bath.  
He knocked, like a true gentleman and waited your reply. Mother raised a polite dwarf after all.   
The sight that greeted him made his heart skip a beat, you were leaning your crossed elbows against the edge of the large circular tub, hair semi dry on one side of your shoulders. A small smile on your face as you hummed a little tune in the echoing bathing chamber. Grabbing a stool Dwalin sat in front of you. His hand cupping your cheek, thumb brushing gently as you looked him in the eyes. His eyes glanced at the small star shaped scar on the top left of your temple. A reminder that he almost lost you, the faint white mark making him frown. You raised your hands and cupped his face again, making him focus on you.   
This was as close to Dwalin as you had ever been. You could see the wheels in his head turning, his cheeks heating up to a tinged pink as he cleared his throat and produced something from his pocket. His large hand uncurled, revealing a Silver bead, bearing his family mark, with a dark green gem on one side. Gasping you knew what he was to ask…   
“I have never been good at this sort of thing… sharing my feelings verbally i mean. Olaila…. Shinuroz kor. I have already spoken to Bilbo and asked his permission… I um. Id be honoured if you…. Hmm… if you accepted my suit, my asking to court you. I cannot give you any gift here on this adventure, but in Erebor I could… I could forge…. I could…. GAh. I can offer you protection, safety, loyalty and love. Id give you my life if asked… Amralime… can you accept this, love, can I braid your hair?“   
You accept happily, letting Dwalin braid your hair on the opposite side of your family braid, clasping it with his bead at the end. Pride flared in his veins as you ran your fingers over it. You were now his, you needed to give him a braid.  
“Dwalin, love. Can you grab my necklace next to my dress please?“  
He complied and gave you your necklace, a prized possession of yours, you unclasped it and let the beads fall in to his palms, then started to put them back on the chain one by one. Dwalin saw that each one was hand made in your style, curved and gentle, except for one. One bead remained in his hand as you placed the necklace back upon your neck.

Oliala surveyed his beard, deciding the braid best in the middle. Quick and deft fingers looped and weaved the hair in to a Iron hills braid (Dutch to us). You added the bead nearing the bottom, made of amber and Mithril you then knotted the end in a complex loop that ensured the braid and beard would never come loose unless by your hands. Dwalin took a looking glass from the table next to the tub and looked at his beard. This bead was rather large, in a rigid geometric shape, one solid hexagon shaped amber set in the middle.   
“My bead here in my hair is a courting bead, made by my Adad for my Amad. Your bead is the bead she made for him, the betrothal bead, as she wore the courting bead until she died. She passed this to me to pass to my One… Adad had his betrothal bead still I assume. I hope to one day make you as happy as they did eachother.“ You took his face in your hands again, noting the pride in his aura, the confidence in his eyes and the faint slyness in his smile. You inched closer, the water feeling too hot now…  
“Aralime, you already have. “  
Leaning in Dwalin brushed his lips against yours, gently, to gauge your reaction. You felt his breath against your lips, his facial hair tickling against you nose and chin. A small sigh escaped you as he cupped the back of you head softly with his hand, the other ghosting over the juncture of your neck. Goosebumps flared beneath his touch, your heart thrumming in anticipation as you closed the distance to kiss him fully.   
Mahal you felt dizzy.  
Dwalin felt time slow. If this is love he knew full well he would be lost in it forever, lost in her. The very soul inside him inflating like a forge at the warmth in her lips, the slight smile against his. Threading his hands in to her hair he shifted, slanting his mouth over hers, eyes closed in the moment, taking her very aura in. The passion a slow burn, as if he was drinking her in as one would the finest of wines. Love….  
Taking the slanting as a hint for more Olaila closed her own eyes and let the time slip away. Her lips were soft and sure, teasing him in a gentle movement that Dwalin needed more of. His lips, rough and fim savoured her, and then he felt it. Her mouth parted, and nipped at his lower lip. That did it. Love...  
A deep rumble escaped him as his mouth opened, in surprise and need at her actions. Sweeping his tongue against her lips, she gladly parted them and welcomed him in. They kissed slow, lazily as their bodies heated up and their faces flushed. There was no need to fight for dominance, no hurried passions of the time denied to them by the travelling, no. There was no need. For they had all the time in the world, and they savoured each other, until they had to come up for air. Love.  
Parting they looked each other in the eyes, Green eyes meeting Blue in a silent confession.  
I love you….   
I love you too…  
Foreheads pressed together they smiled. If THIS is love. All the treasure in Erebor meant nothing. This is truly the greatest treasure Mahal could bless them with…  
Dwalin could hear the men return from the fountain, shouting about food and making merry. Olailas hair now dried and the water barely luke warm at best she told him to go and she would meet him there. She needed to dress. She’d be there soon. 

\---------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

The bead upon Dwalins beard made several dwarves hollar and whistle. It made a few of them richer too. Bets of course had been placed.   
After Bofur’s song they laughed and talked at length. Dwalin smiled when Lord Elrond called Olaila over to make sure she was truly healed. Her dress was something else. Elven in make no doubt but the green colour complimented her eyes and made them shine. Dwalin was totally hooked on his lady love. Thorin even thanked her for saving Kili, asking her if there was anything she should ever need he would grant her it.

“You missed Bofur’s song.“ Bilbo spoke happily as she sat next to Dwalin. The elleth had given you quite a bit of fruit to snack on while bathing, so you didn’t need much of the salad to fill your belly. Bofur had told you of the song he sang, a popular tavern tune to stop the harps of the elves depressing them so. You shook your head, harps and flutes are beautiful instruments. Thorin played a harp, for Mahals sake. Elrond looked over at your defending of the music the elves played, saying that if an elf played a tune you could turn it in to a song lively enough for both dwarf and elf alike.   
Bofur liked a challenge when he heard one.  
“If you are so sure, then please my Lady Dam, prove this old music lover wrong, 10 coins to the victor.“ Arching a cocky brow he shifted in his seat, crossing his arms in what he thought was a sure won bet, oh how wrong he would soon be.   
The bets placed, even Lord Elrond in on the challenge you had a quick think in you brain. With a swish of skirts you took to the middle of the grouping, letting Bofur start by humming his selected tune. You let the chosen elleth start playing and you tapped your foot to the rhythm, humming alongside him and then you realised you could turn it in to the courting song you heard once as a pebble in the Blue mountains many many years ago. Bofur’s home.  
This bet was hers before it truly even began. She tapped her hands against the raised platform like a drum beat as the elleth picked up on it and began to join in, making the turn her on. Olaila looked at the company and chanted a sentence in an ancient khuzdul, until they began repeating it to the beat. Louder with each repetition.

 

(A/N Play this to accompany the music.   
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=TLJmyUkJquU  
For reasoning lets pretend the main voices are Olaila just changing her pitch. The male backing vocals being the Dwarves who know the song. And the female ones being echoes from the open space.)  
\--------------------------------------------------

Dúlamán dúlamán Gaelach  
Dúlamán dúlamán Gaelach  
……………………..

A ‘níon mhín ó, sin anall na fir shúirí  
A mháithairin mhín ó, cuir na roithléan go dtí mé  
Dúlamán na binne buí, dúlamán Gaelach  
Dúlamán na farraige, b’fhearr a bhí in Éirinn

 

Bofur looked at the lass like she had served him a bowl of boiled carrots. The Company knew this song, an ancient khuzdul song about courting ones love against their fathers wishes . He had lost and he knew it, the tune he selected could easily be turned in to this song. The Company started to thrum their feet and bang their hands on the table to the beat. Elves started to tap along and bob to the music. They may not understand the song but they liked the tune it carried.

 

Tá ceann buí óir ar an dúlamán gaelach  
Tá dhá chluais mhaol ar an dúlamán maorach  
Bróga breaca dubha ar an dúlamán gaelach  
Tá bearéad agus triús ar an dúlamán maorach

Dúlamán na binne buí, dúlamán Gaelach  
Dúlamán na farraige, b’fhearr a bhí in Éirinn

Dwalin got up and danced with Olaila, twirling her to and fro. A truly fine Dam he had there. Elrond and a few elves laughed happily at the display. 

Dúlamán na binne buí, dúlamán Gaelach  
Dúlamán na farraige, b’fhearr a bhí in Éirinn  
Góide a thug na tíre thú? arsa an dúlamán gaelach  
Ag súirí le do níon, arsa an dúlamán maorach  
Rachaimid chun Niúir leis an dúlamán gaelach  
Ceannóimid bróga daora ar an dúlamán maorach  
Dúlamán na binne buí, dúlamán Gaelach  
Dúlamán na farraige, b’fhearr a bhí in Éirinn

 

Ó chuir mé scéala chuici, go gceannóinn cíor dí  
‘Sé’n scéal a chuir sí chugam, go raibh a ceann cíortha  
Dúlamán na binne buí, dúlamán Gaelach  
Dúlamán na farraige, b’fhearr a bhí in Éirinn  
Dúlamán na binne buí, dúlamán Gaelach  
Dúlamán na farraige, b’fhearr a bhí in Éirinn

Dwalin knew the next part of this song and sang the man’s part back to Olaila. (I know here the man's voice is very high but imagine Dwalins deep voice singing back to her)

Cha bhfaigheann tú mo ‘níon, arsa an dúlamán gaelach  
Bheul, fuadóidh mé liom í, arsa an dúlamán maorach  
Dúlamán na binne buí, dúlamán Gaelach  
Dúlamán na binne buí, dúlamán Gaelach  
Dúlamán na farraige, b’fhearr a bhí in Éirinn  
Dúlamán na binne buí, dúlamán Gaelach  
Dúlamán na farraige, b’fhearr a bhí, b’fhearr a bhí  
Dúlamán na binne buí, dúlamán Gaelach  
Dúlamán na farraige, b’fhearr a bhí, b’fhearr a bhí  
B’fhearr a bhí in Éirinn

As they finished the dance to the applause of all around Olaila laughed and lifted her hand to catch the purse from Bofur, who made two mental notes that day.  
One- never bet against Olaila and her musical ability again. And two- get her to sing more often, her voice singing khuzdul reminding him of home back in the Blue mountains…

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> \---------------------------------------------  
> Author’s Note
> 
> Translations-  
> *Form ranks  
> ** Shining Star  
> *** My Love
> 
> Song by Celtic woman.  
> Thank you for reading the latest chapter of A Dam as fine as any! I hope the bath scene was to your liking, won’t be long till we get some smut! 
> 
> Olaila B XXX


	7. Moon runes.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> When the moon shines tempers flare and fun times ensue...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Before reading I was going to include some ever good loving smut in this chapter but I think I may dedicate the next to it? I feel making it a stand alone chapter would be best, this is why this chapter is shorter.   
> Opinions?   
> Olaila B xxx

Thorin insisted she go along to the meeting with Lord Elrond. Insisted! Something about how a dam like her can keep Elrond in check, she scoffed at the King and trudged along anyway. Like she could make Lord Elrond bend to her will, it was absurd. She was just kind to elves! Much to the annoyance of the King she showed respect to the elves of Rivendell, why what had they done to her to earn her hatred?  
Nothing.

 

So when the light faded she walked along the elven halls to meet with the Lord, along with Thorin, Gandalf, Bilbo and Balin. The others away readying a fire and more dwarven food. Oliala felt a thrum in her heart as the men begin to talk about the map. This was the only way to get the answers we needed, but save her from Thorin’s rudeness! Once she had the chance she would let him know of manners, for they cost naught and even the youngest of babes knew how to say please! Tapping her fingers against her sleeve as her thoughts turned to Bilbo.   
She had been treated better since the realisation of her bloodline, but he was still treated rather poorly. She thought of him as kin, her brother. Through and through he was blood to her. But the dwarves save Bofur, Balin and Dwalin still treated him like a burden, she was getting fed up of it. Especially Thorin.   
She knew that the adjustment would take time but she honestly thought they would warm up to their Hobbit by now! Sighing in slight exasperation she snapped at the King once he made his peace known about elves knowing their business.  
“For goodness sake, Thorin, show him the map.” Olaila and Gandalf spoke in unison, although her voice held a bit more bite to it. She knew she shouldn’t be so rude, as he could leave her behind at any moment, but she felt as if a negative energy had taken over her core. Something, or someone was digging in to the past in her head. A woman… Olaila didn’t know of it, but somewhere away from Rivendell the Lady Galadriel had found her mind, her sorrows, her destiny. She wanted to understand the lady of the company. And so by digging through her pain she involuntarily flared up Olailas emotions, her mindless irritation from the time bilbo cut her hair as a prank in his youth, her hatred of beetroot, her pain at her Amads death… her sorrow at the declaration of the caravans doom. Galadriel saw it all. Leaving her mind the Lady knew her now and left her to calm down from the anger she stirred. Destiny brings those close to life to their death…Only a choice can save them all... The lady thought in her own mind before retreating completely.

“It is the legacy of my people; it is mine to protect, as are its secrets.” Thorin huffed at the dam in his presence, for some reason she was even more irked than he. But he did not care, it was not of his concern although he would make note of it to Dwalin.  
“Save me from the stubbornness of Dwarves. Your pride will be your downfall. You stand here in the presence of one of the few in Middle Earth who can read that map. Show it to Lord Elrond.” Gandalf reasoned with him sternly.  
Olaila had calmed a bit by now and shot a tired look to Thorin, who in turn deflated and unfolded the map to the elf in question.  
“Thorin, no!” Balin pressed a gentle had upon Olaila’s shoulder, stepping forward to stand equal to the only female in their presence.   
Thorin brushed him aside and handed the map to Lord Elrond, Balins grip tightened on the Dam as he felt defeated. Their privacy was to be invaded by an elf! Olaila didn’t mind as much, for any help to reclaim the mountain was good help after all.  
“Erebor. What is your interest in this map?”  
“It’s mainly academic. As you know, this sort of artifact sometimes contains hidden text. You still read Ancient Dwarvish, do you not?”

Elrond walks a little bit away from the group then, looking at the map. As the moonlight hits the map, Elrond realizes something, something so easy to miss that he chuckles to himself before speaking two words.  
“Cirth Ithil.”  
“Moon runes. Of course. An easy thing to miss.” Gandalf had caught on just as easily, but the sudden outburst that interrupted them echoed in the hall.  
“You mean to tell me that the map HAD MOON RUNES UPON THEM?! MAHAL ABOVE I COULD HAVE READ THAT MAP FOR YOU IF THE MOON WAS RIGHT!” Olaila fumed not silently at all, she had indeed learned of these things and many others in the museum at the Shire, she had read all the books, twice. She could speak a variety of languages, self taught of course and could have recited the tale of Beren and Luthien by heart. She soaked up knowledge and it worked in her favour most of the time, but Thorin silenced her with a barked silence and a glare so harsh it could freeze her blood.  
Scuttling her boot on the floor looking down guiltily she decided to not speak unless spoken to. Her feelings slightly hurt.  
“Well in this case, that is true; moon runes can only be read by the light of a moon of the  
same shape and season as the day on which they were written. But my Lady it truly brightens my heart to see another capable of reading such a hard scripture. Thorin, she is a force to be reckoned with...”  
“Can you read them?” Gandalf pressed while smiling at the blushing Dam, the compliment truly warmed her spirit. Elrond offered an arm to the lady and lead the way, Thorin glowering the whole time.

Elrond lead them all to an open area outside, on the side of a cliff, with waterfalls all around. Olaila gasped and walked forward to survey the endless stretch of blue and white clouds before her, these were the sights she truly wanted to see. Bilbo stepped beside her and took her hand, this was a scene to remember, nature in its glory bright and pure. The moon was hiding shyly behind the clouds like whispers of smoke.   
“These runes were written on a Midsummer’s Eve by the light of a crescent moon nearly two hundred years ago. It would seem you were meant to come to Rivendell. Fate is with you, Thorin Oakenshield; the same moon shines upon us tonight. My Lady, would you care to translate?” Oh Elrond was indeed making a point to the Dwarf King, never underestimate a Dam that had knowledge. For she shall use it and there shall be mud on your face.  
The clouds covering the moon had begun to part as if by Lord Elronds command and rays of moonlight hits the crystalline table, causing light to flow through the map which has been laid there. Ancient runes glowed upon the map in a shining blue hue, Olaila stepped up with the Lords help and spoke the words aloud, no need for help or pause. The words flowed from her mouth like water, like she wrote the very words herself.  
“Stand by the gray stone when the thrush knocks, and the setting sun with the last light of Durin’s Day will shine upon the keyhole. But to those be wary, as a choice must be made from this day. Sacrifice to save all, or greed to save none, the last of their kin will choose. ” Turning to Thorin her face illuminated in a soft silver from the moon, she smiled a gentle smile. She was not one to gloat, but the flash of surprise upon his features had been worth it to her.  
“Durin’s Day?” Bilbo spoke curiously, for he had heard it before, from Olaila’s Amad many a year ago when he was a wee hobbit.  
“It is the start of the dwarves’ new year, when the last moon of autumn and the first sun of winter appear in the sky together.”  
“This is ill news. Summer is passing. Durin’s Day will soon be upon us. And save all? Greed to save none? I have never heard words such as that, but I know it means one is to give up everything to save others...” Thorin pondered the words, they all did for a little while. Gandalf was the only one to see the flash of sadness upon Elrond's features as he looked quickly to the girl beside him. Gandalf knew, Elrond knew. 

Elrond has caught the snippets of the continuing conversation- “So this is your purpose, to enter the Mountain.” Thorin derw in a deep breath, as if the air were pure confidence and arrogance.  
“What of it?” Oh thorin…  
“There are some who would not deem it wise.” Almost snatching the map back from the Elf Thotin huffed and ordered the dwarves to meet with the others.  
Elrond had left Gandalf to only catch the arm of the Lady Olaila, his face one of confusion and care.  
“My Lady… you knew of Moon Runes, I must ask you what else do you know?” Her eyebrows shot up in his request as the others retreated back to the Company. It was like he was searching for a certain answer, he was. He wanted to know of her fate.  
“I know how to make jewellery, I know I bake better than cook, I can fight, I can speak many languages, elvish included. I can sew, sing, dance, paint. Well I can even tell you the tale of your ancestors by heart Lord Elrond. Beren and Luthien.” He listened to her well, knowing she had been brought up to know these skills, he would love to hear what she knew of his distant relatives too, but he pressed once more.  
“Of the words on the map, do you know the choice in it’s meaning?” Her brows furrowed thoughtfully as she considered the words. Folding her hands to her chest she spoke a sure and true answer.  
“Greed saves nobody, but breaks them. I would sacrifice what I had gained to to save all. If it refers to the Company, any of them individually or all together, I would save them even if it meant my own death. I think my actions earlier for the Prince Kili proved that, do you not?” Her eyes shone bright in the dark of the corridor. Elrond nodded and bid her leave, before he stood at the table once more, feeling his heart break at the words she spoke. Words much like Celebrian would have spoken, strong words that meant their demise in turn for others. She reminded him alot of his wife and he knew that on the day of her announced death in months to come, he would weep as he did for his love when she left for the sea, his Celebrian. 

Olaila did not want to sleep among the stars when staying in Rivendell, she opted for a large comfy bed in the west side of Elronds home. Elron himself had offered her a room earlier at the feast, which she shook his hand vigorously in thanks. West is where the colder air was she reasoned, and wanted to curl up truly warm in the chill she loved so much. She had stayed with the dwarves during the day, singing and dancing and eating heartily with them. But at night she would venture back to her room. On the night of the Moon runes revelation Thorin took her to one side. 

And apologised.

The ever gruff mighty Thorin Oakenshield apologised to her, for pointedly shutting her up in from of the others with a word and a glare. Dis would have hit him on the head, Frerin would have tugged his braids till he apologised and Vili would have let his wife take care of it. Dis was a hardy woman if need be. And it was always needed for her hardheaded brothers. Olaila couldn’t believe it, he was apologising to her! And in between the babbling acceptance she hugged him, like a sister would a brother, warm and full, before letting him go to bid them goodnight. Thorin felt tears prick his eyes and fought them feverently, she hugged like Dis. She hugged like Amad. He was treating her and Bilbo like burdens… He vowed then and there to change that as best as he could. He was a stubborn Dwarf, but he would try as best as he could to change his ways. It would take a miracle or a life saving event to change him though…  
Thorin waltzed to the camp ever the more thoughtful then. Looking at Dwalin ready his bedroll he decided his cousin and the lady needed some privacy. They had tried to be discreet with hands holding each other tight and a sneaky kiss when the others weren’t looking. But they were courting and Thorin knew this love was a good one. Standing before the bald Fudinson he bent low and whispered in his ear…  
“Gandalf wants us to leave in 3 days, at the arrival of some other…. Parties that would forbid us in to the mountain. That is 3 nights I can grant you with her Dwalin at my blessing. Go, that’s an order. Don’t be too loud, don’t get her with child and go. Take it before I change my mind.”  
Dwalin looked at his King with shock, had he just offered him 3 days of privacy with his beloved One? 3 nights where he had Thorin's blessing to couple with each other? A coupling was a sacred act, close to marriage but not official. Thorin was no idiot, they would be fooling around on the road soon, where privacy and discretion were scarce. He knew Dwalin would want to wed her once in Erebor, so this was a logical next step.  
Dwalin stood, bowed quickly at Thorin and turned on his heel and up the stairs to her room on the other side of the area.  
He didn’t even bother putting his boots back on or his axe belt. The others thought he was to get ale and left him be, but after 40 minutes of an ale-less Company they beg and to gripe and whine. 5 minutes later Dwalin was a bit disheveled, shirt gone and back scratched and in a power walk grabbed his empty axe belt. Grasper and Keeper left snug next to Balins pack.  
“Where do you think your going with that belt Dwalin?” Bofur asked him, ale forgotten at his friends strange behaviour. Dwalin looked over his shoulder and flashed a cocky smile. The scratches on his back pink in the light.  
“Round two laddie..”  
The silence stretched as Bofur’s mouth hung open. Nori dropped his stolen salt shaker and Fili and Kili were red as tomatoes. For soon they burst in to laughter and wolf whistled the retreating dwarf. Gloin reached his hand high as Balin chucked him some coin.  
“You made a bet Gloin? On what?” Fili asked at the redhead by his left.  
“I made a bet that they would couple here. Balin made a bet they would couple in Erebor.”   
“How did you know they would couple here?” Kili piped up, curiosity peaked.  
“Well I did over hear Olaila make a bet with Dwalin that they could break more elven furniture before they left.” Fili and Kili shared a surprised look and gulped. For that night Olaila won her bet, the Company well aware of the broke nbed Lord Elrond mentioned and Dwalin wasn’t seen at the campfire by night at Rivendell for the remainder of their stay...


	8. Together

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Enjoy some smut ya filthy animals ;) 
> 
> Olaila B xxx

The last night in Rivendell meant you had to leave soon, before the parties against the Quest arrived by Lord Elrond's command. Dwalin was snoring lightly in to your hair, one of his arms curled around your middle protectively as your face rested on his chest.   
The slow and steady rise and fall of his wide chest told you he was still in a deep slumber, but you couldn't sleep. The dawn was coming, early morning was to break through the clouds soon… everything was quiet, the birds still, the water of the nearby river even seemed to hush calmy by, it was too quiet. Olaila liked quiet sure, but too quiet meant she could hear the blood in her ears, the heartbeat in her head mixing with Dwalins. The quiet of thought. Too quiet. One last hurrah the Dam thought with a sleepy sly grin. Her One had been very generous in coupling these past few days, dark kisses marred her tattooed body as if love notes were written upon it. He had expressed his love for her in more than physical ways, but to mark her made their connection stronger, their union almost as official as marriage.

\---------------SMUT WARNING/LANGUAGE WARNING------------------------  
Mde it more your point of view so it was more…. Personal ;)

\------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Shifting your arm ever so slightly you managed to reach Dwalins belly. Broad and thick like his chest, hardened with muscle but not defined except for a prominent Adonis V. He was like a bear, just less hairy and not going to kill you if you stole his fish. You decided to make some noise to disturb the quiet… Swirling your hands and nails lightly over his belly you graze against his tattooed skin, creating patterns within his chest hair, swirls and curls in all directions… lowering… lowering.  
Goosebumps rose in your hands path, soon flowing all over the man you love, his skin tightening in the sensation, THIS was the reaction you wanted. He shifted and sighed deeply. Your hand then lowered to his bellybutton, circling it slowly. From here Dwalin had a small trail of hair leading down to his manhood, trim and cropped dark hair that lead to pleasure. 

Your fingers danced downwards once more, his breath less shallow as you scratch his adonis V with a bit more pressure. A small moan, deep and breathy… Good.  
Meeting in the middle you toy with the edge of the blanket, Dwalin was like a living furnace, so he provided you with more warmth than the blanket ever could. Taking a chance you slip your hand under, gently brushing over him, all of him. Dwalins cock was large, thick and burly with a wide head that made you cry in pleasure for the past few nights. Even not fully aroused like now he was sizeable, the touch of your soft hand made it pulse and tighten in your grip. Dwalins arm had uncurled from your middle and his breathing sped up a touch, he wouldn’t wake yet… Not yet. Stroking him gently you made sure to run your thumb over the head to get the blood flowing, he was almost fully hard. But oh you wanted him weeping cum before he woke up fully.  
Shuffling your body down under the sheet you slowly joined your hand by your lovers manhood, his hard cock now beating with a thick vein upon the underside.   
With your eyes peering from the fabrics opening to Dwalins face to see if he is closer to waking you wet your lips and slowly, flatly, wetly licked that very vein, from base to tip while your hand stroked the rest of him. He grunted, but still a deep sleeper was he.  
The hardness pulsed deeply then, strong and hot he could render any woman to jelly in moments at the sight of him, he did the first time you saw him fully naked. Your first coupling he had been gentle and caring, then after you both found a perfect balance of hard and soft. You liked to make him a breathless mess, growling Khuzdul and cheeks smatteresd red at your slight soft touches, your kisses that fluttered on his skin and your body so perfectly smooth against his course body. Like silk. And yet he rendered you near catatonic with his firm grip on your hips and bruising kisses… his safe but proud hand on your throat when taking you from behind, his gently pull at your hair that growled possesiveness… Like Steel. Yes you two were a perfect match. But today would be different, no softness for him, you had never taken him in your mouth. This was to be a way you could show dominance. 

And oh you did. 

The feeling of your hands gently pumping him were gone, you decided to loop your thumb and finger around the base of his cock, effectively trapping the blood within. He hardened once more, as you began to plant harsh open mouthed kisses on him, sucking at the vein once, twice before letting go to move upwards. His hips bucked slightly as you caught the underside of his head with your teeth, a nip that had him moaning a bit more wakingly. You guessed you didn’t have long before he woke fully so you took his head in to your mouth.  
You sucked, hard. He bucked once more and gasped a little breathlessly while you bobbed up and down his shaft, he would be awake soon, his precum hitting the back of your throat and tongue with every deepening pass. Your other hand began to stroke and massage his sack as it started to constrict with his soon coming orgasm, you wanted him awake, coming hard and shouting your name. 

What a greedy Dam you were.

She sped up her movements, Dwalin’s hips rutting with each suck, she was near the base now, her trick almost ready as Dwalin opened his eyes, hands fisted the sheet beneath him as his body shone with the light sheen of sweat. His eyes focusing in the dawns warming light. His gasps and grunts were filling the room, breaking the silence she so hated, but he wasn’t too loud as to wake anyone nearby, Thorin told him not to be too loud and he wanted thier coupling enough to obey his King, even like this he dared not to shout. The damn was near bursting within him, he was close, he knew he couldn’t last much longer.  
“Love….” His voice was hoarse and he swears he could FEEL the smug smile she had on her face around him. BINGO.  
The Dam released his base, moved the blanket from her head and gripped his big thighs as she withdrew to lock eyes with his, green meeting blue. Dwalin was resting on his elbows to look at her and she had him exactly how she wanted him, deeply and strongly she took him. WHOLE. His tip his the back of her throat and then kept going as she deepthroats him while staring him out the whole time. Dwalin came.  
But no sound other than a strangled growl left him as he saw her stay in place, seed spilling into her throat. He wondered how much she could handle before she had to withdraw and spit it out… 

But…..

 

She swallowed. 

She swallowed his load as he emptied himself, his mouth hung agape in breathless shock and awe at her. She had never done this, but she was a pro. Olaila wasn’t versed in this at all, she was a virgin until their first night. But the confidence that filled her that morning made her go with her instincts. And Dwalin was doomed.

He really liked her soft and gentle touches, but he LOVED this side of her, the control flipped ever so slightly as she looked fearless and confident. She took this in her stride. Dwalin backed up and shifted up to have his head against some pillows as leverage as he felt her withdraw. His eyes staring at the ceiling as his breath steadied, only to be interrupted by a shifting weight below him, before he felt it. He was still hard and she had slipped him inside.   
Looking to her she was kneeling upon him, eyes burning with passion and smug satisfaction as if to issue a challenge. Dwalin, the big fierce warrior that he was, didn’t dare protest as she rocked up and back on her heels and slammed back down upon him. He felt winded, he felt lost within the sensation that was her. He has no control here, her eyes told him she was in charge and he knew it. After a few more shudderingly good bounces she took his hands in her own and placed them upon her hips. Dwalin pawed at her hips in need and want, his voice growlin in a deep timbred Khuzdul.  
Dwalin was trying so hard to keep in check, to make sure he didn’t hurt her...  
“When I tell you to Amralime… oh…. Ah…. let go and follow your instincts, do not worry about hurting me ahhhhh.” Her voice gasped a hot while that swirled in the room like smoke. Dwalin nodded, swallowing thickly at the powerful woman he loved. She was a goddess, fire and stone worked in to this beautiful Dam he had the chance to call his One. She started to roll her hips and grind with every rise and fall, her orgasm rising to a bursting point. Her mouth whispered a word so quietly a human would miss it…   
She came as she whispered ‘Release’ To Dwalin. Who sat up and drew her in to him while holding the back of her neck in one hand as the other gripped her hip and slamming brutally in to her, his cock milked dry a second time as he came within her quivering walls. Their kiss was one of swallowed names, sweat mingling between their bodies as they pulsed with combined heart beats. Her chest felt warm as if her heart was glowing. Once down from their high Dwalin kissed her nose, chuckling at her cute blush. They sat there for a moment as they calmed and smiled together. They had to leave Rivendell tonight. But this was now. Here was now. They basked in it with slow caresses and kisses until breakfast.

\---------------------------------------------------------------

Gandalf spoke of needing to leave without him. You all readied yourself at the bridge. Holding Dwalin’s hand tight you awaited Thorin’s signal to walk on. Leaving was the right thing to do, but somewhere you felt as if trouble was brewing ahead of you. You felt sad, and then you felt it, you felt HER.   
“Saviour of Durin… do not be afraid. I must speak to you… My name is Lady Galadriel” That was surprising news indeed, everyone educated enough in the Elven race knew Galadriel… Olaila knew her indeed.  
“I see you are the one spoken of in the Map. Last of your Kin my little star. A blessing you are to the ones you call friends. Do you know of your choices? Your choice indeed? Who knows little star, but I know when you make the choice you will shine brighter than any before or after you.   
“ Her words were cryptic enough to stump Olaila, who started to walk with the others, hand still clutching to Dwalins tightly.  
“Be safe, for I know you will make the right choice, forged new of your purity. For the light shall defeat the dark, and greed shall not prevail. Good luck. And my blessings to your union…” Her light voice faded as Olaila looked to Dwalin, his face set in a grim stare to the back of Thorin’s head. She felt saddened by the lady’s leaving her head. Her mind was calm, white, reassuring. As if she knew something the others didn’t, as if she knew everything would be alright. Gears turning she thought of the words in the map… If she was the one chosen what choice did she have to make? Saviour of Durin? Durin… Durin… Oakenshield!

Head snapping to the King her face dropped as she realised what it meant. Her choice to lose everything will save all… Save Thorin, Fili and Kili…. And by extension… Dwalin. She swallowed thickly as she realised she would be the changing factor in the success of this Quest. She was to lose everything. She knew what everything meant. Her time was limited. She shook her head vigorously as if to rid herself of an itch.  
I best not think of such horrid thoughts, I will be fine. She pushed the thoughts deeply in to a corner of her mind, what did she know of the words of the map? Silly superstition.  
The sag in her shoulders was noted by Balin behind her, who had come to read her moods rather well the past few weeks. She was deep in thought, sad thought… The older dwarf frowned deeply at the girls change in spirit, something had worried her.  
Galadriel smiled from the platform as she withdrew from the thoughts of the group, who knew they had such a being among them! Galadriel knew then the words on the map meant something else.   
“But to those be wary, as a choice must be made from this day. Sacrifice to save all, or greed to save none, the last of their kin will choose.” Olaila didn't know the last sentences to be written in a different dialect, one even Elrond didn’t know. It’s real words read-

“But to those around the heart the choice is made.. Awaken the heart and save all, for greed falls as the last chooses to shine.”

Galadriel knew Olaila was to give something to save the rest of them all, it wasn’t her life.  
It was the part of her that was put inside her by Mahal himself. That was carried within her mother when she was young to be passed to her daughter when in the womb. Her heart. The heart of a star, the heart…

 

 

Of a mountain. 

 

The Arkenstone within the mountain was only half of what was guarded by smaug, split in the chaos half was taken by Mahal… And now it lay around a beating heart, beneath the sternum of a Dam. The very gem tattooed upon her chest by her Amad when she dreamed of it, Mahal telling her to bless her daughter with the marks of her blood. The Arkenstone was waiting. It was waiting to shine upon the mountain when war raged upon it, to save the King and his blood.

Olaila was indeed a special Dam, she was destined to do great things. She was meant to save the Line of Durin. A light to purge the darkness and reforge a new life. The Company were saved already, the pale orc would find his death by a shining star.


	9. Goblin Town won't get me down

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> How many times can a girl get in trouble?   
> Many.  
> The answer is many.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Im so soooo sorry I haven't updated sooner!   
> Thank you for your patience! It's just with work and getting married next month I don't have much time to write!   
> Olaila B XXX

The rain kept her spirits up but dampened the others, cold needles of water soaked through the companies very skin as the downpour continued. The air was thick with damp and the wind whipped the very sight out of their squinting eyes. Olaila knew conditions like these, and her senses leapt into overdrive, even more so now leaving the elves domain. Her worry was more placed on the company, now huddling together in the cold with Bilbo straggling near the back. Thunder and lightning cracked and bellowed above them, signalling the gods above were smithing in their halls. The flashes of light illuminated the clouds, deep rolling cascades of purples, royal blues and white that changed and shifted in the wind. The journey had begun again and it began harshly, but Olaila was not afraid, her eyes caught the minute details of the stone path ahead. Her ears fine tuned to the rumble of thunder as if the very sounds originated in her ears themselves.

SHE FELT ALIVE.

Holding Dwalin’s large warm hand her mind drifted back to Galadriel. Her nerves had calmed from her telepathic invasion, with riddles that caused her brain to buzz. She knew she was to sacrifice herself to save her friends and company, her love, the durins… She ought to feel saddened by the revelation, but Galadriel spoke so happily to her… Was she to die? She had a small voice in the back of her mind echoing that she was to live. But she did not listen, for she didn’t know what to think herself.   
Her heart felt alive with feeling, light and warm and free, as if she had regained her childlike purity. She placed her free hand upon it and swore it felt full and glowing with energy.   
Dwalin shifted ever so slightly as her sudden movement, her face showing concern and confusion. Her lip caught in her teeth, her face was glowing, her eyes brighter than any emerald but gone was the smile he loved. Dwalin didn’t like it and he frowned deeply, her hair was soaked and she didn’t even seem to be feeling the rain. Her feet shuffled automatically away from rocks and dips in the path she again didn’t seem to see. He worried for his love, and as they pressed closer on the path he kissed her hair and looked back to Balin.   
Balin kept an eye on her back, making sure she was safe, his face set in a firm squint. They shared a single look and Balin shuffled closer to her and smiled warmly at his brother. To see him in love was a sight Balin cherished. But Balin knew of his worry, the girl didn’t seem right since they left Rivendell.

Dwalins second small kiss and a warmly uttered “Love are you alright, you’re so far away from us…” brought her back to the present. The trail began to narrow, the craggy paths and stone walls becoming deeply claustrophobic. This path was in one word- dangerous, with a cliff on one side and a sheer drop on the other. One wrong step and you would fall to an instant death, There is a fierce storm in the air, with lightning and rain all around. For the first time Olaila noticed the weather and after a slight nod to her One, she shuddered, grimacing at her soaked through hood. Bofur was behind Balin and saw her touch her hood and inspect the wetness of it, winding her hair on to a thick soaked bun her head dropped down a fraction.  
“Lass, here. Take my hat, no no arguments, Dwalin put it on her head. She’s soaked through poor girl!” Bofur passed his funny hat to Dwalin who thanked him and proceeded to plop the warm accessory on her head. Oliala smiled at the gesture, pushing the thoughts out of her brain and focused on the path.

 

“Hold on!” Thorin shouted just before the stone beneath bilbo’s feet gave away, Bilbo’s eyes widened as his balance failed, he prayed not to die as his heart jumped up his throat and hammered fast. Dwalin managed to grab him before he fell, much to the relief of both the hobbit himself and his sister, he swore if Bilbo was to be his good brother he would need to train the lad in balance!  
“We must find shelter!”  
Dwalin was gripping both Olaila and Bildo tight as something large and fast catches his eye- “Watch out!” his rough timbered voice boomed.  
The Dwarves look up and see a massive boulder hurtling through the air; it hit and shattered against the mountainside above them, causing rocks to fall all around them as they press themselves against the mountain. Olaila clung to Dwalin and grabbed Ori who was looking more than a little scared at the sudden violence around them. They seemed to be placed right in the middle of a battle! One that Master Balin seemed to vocalise to the rag tag group.  
“This is no thunderstorm; it’s a thunder battle! Look!” They all look in a mixture of awe and fear at the sight in front of them.  
A towering stone giant rears up and stands from their position on a nearby mountain; within its grip there is a boulder larger than the whole company times ten. Thorin gasps at the sight of such a legendary creature, but the sound is swallowed up by the wind and rain.  
Bofur, with his plaits swinging wildly in the wind hollered “Well bless me, the legends are true. Giants; Stone Giants!”  
“Take cover: you’ll fall!” 

As the stones rain down from above the Company cling to each other wildly. The collosal creature throws the boulder far in the air; as another giant appears from behind, then the boulder hits it in the head. The dwarves yell at each other to brace and hold on, and the very rocks beneath their feet begin to give way from the tremors and from the impact of the falling rocks. The ground began to split between them and Olaila is pulled from Dwalin and Bilbo’s grip. Their hands just a few too far to grab on to each other.  
"Kili! Grab my hand! Ki..." fili was cut off as the two stone giants began to fight with their fists, causing the company upon one's leg to be thrown around and thrashed violently. When they thought it couldn’t get any worse a third stone giant appears, and it throws a boulder at the head of one of the first two, a direct hit! The giant begins to fall and crumble upon its knees, and as Thorin and the remaining group watch on in horror, it appears to them that the other group of the Company has been crushed upon an opposite ridge, Dwalin and Bilbo both falter in their footing and grab onto each other in shock. As the hurt Giant falls down the chasm they stand there for a moment, but break into a run to the spot as Thorin hollars for his lost nephew.  
“No! No! Kili!”   
Balin’s voice calls to them as they reach the collision sight, “We’re all right! We’re alive!”  
Bilbo does not see his sister and frantically begins to check the edges of the cliff. He slips and falls as he reaches out to grab an injured Olis hand from a small footing of rock she was pressed against.  
“Get him!” Dwalin and Thorin both reach for Bilbo by his ankles and pull, relieved when they pull up their Dam, her arms scratched and cut slightly.  
“My axes.. They fell…” Oliala gasped as tears formed in her eyes and she clutched at Dwalins furs like she never wished to part from them. Dwalin frowned again, she loved her axes… All she had now was her Adad’s sword, Earth and Shatter were lost to the chasm below. He sighed in relief and patted Bilbo on the shoulder.  
“I thought we’d lost our burglar and his bodyguard there.”  
Thorin fumed and barked out harshly at the group.  
“He’s been lost ever since he left home. He should never have come, BOTH of them shouldn’t. They have no place amongst us for all the trouble they have caused us..!” The king to be stormed off and left a stunned and disappointed Company following slowly behind.   
When they stumble upon a seemingly suitable cave Thorin begins giving orders to all of them. They checked the cave to make sure it was truly safe, set up little areas to rest. Oliala hummed as she cleaned her cuts and settled in to the side of Dwalin. Her love looked upon her again as she unwound her hair and kept Bofur's hat on under the mustached dwarves instruction. He swore by his beard that her eyes looked bright in the dim of the cave, like looking upon them in a sunny day, they glowed, literally glowed! Like a cat… or a star… He pushed the thought aside as he looked at his King, the deep annoyed frown on his face made Dwalin groan... Dwalin kissed his Ones cheek as her eyes drooped sleepily, he sauntered over to Thorin and by the scruff of his neck drags him out the cave to have a private chat.  
“What in the name of Mahal has gotten in to you Dwalin! “ Thorin whispered harshly as the burly dwarf crossed his arms.   
“Why did you say that. Why did you say it Thorin? That they don’t belong. You know as well as I do that they do.”  
Thorin didn’t respond, instead his face melted in to one of guilt and sadness. He was a stubborn dwarf his cousin, but Dwalin knew Thorin was struggling to accept the two oddities of the group.  
They talked for a small while, Thorin and Dwalin arguing the respect needed for Olaila and Bilbo, Thorin relented a little and they shook hands knowing that if Throin said anything like that again Dwalin had permission to punch him. It seemed to be a fair trade. 

Bilbo was thinking, thinking while only pretending to be asleep. He felt terrible, Olaila was getting backlash from Thorin because of him! She was their kin. But Thorin’s words would cut deep, Oli always took words harshly. Sighing a little he makes his mind up, she had a better chance with him gone, if he left while she slept then she couldn’t reprimand him. At least not in person… maybe a strongly worded letter. Stealthily opening his eyes he looks around. Seeing that no one is watching, he quietly rolls up his blankets and packs his things. Grabbing his walking stick, he starts to leave the cave, tiptoeing over the sleeping dwarves. Looking once more at Olaila curled up with Dwalin he gives them a watery half smile. She deserved love, happiness. She deserved it all. Maybe now he was gone she could get his share? Would she be happy in Erebor? Would they marry? Would they be blessed with dwarflings? Would she be happy? Happy? Yes… She would be happy.  
“Where do you think you’re going?”  
Snapping out of his thoughts Bilbo swiped at his eyes and straightened his posture. Standing as tall as a Hobbit could he quietly whispered back to the now hatless Bofur.  
“Back to Rivendell.”  
“No, no, you can’t turn back now, you’re part of the Company. You’re one of us.” Bofur was having none of it, gripping the hobbits shoulders gently, wide eyes stared and Bofur saw sadness and regret in his smaller friend.  
With a weak smile the curly haired hobbit replied- “I’m not though, am I? Thorin said I should never have come, and he was right. I’m not a Took, I’m a Baggins, I don’t know what I was thinking. I should never have run out my door. I’m causing trouble for her Bofur… For my sister… SHE belongs with you all. Yet with me here Thorin still sees her as a hobbit. She deserves her dream Bofur, losing those Axes means she is less of a dwarf in her eyes. Olaila deserves more than anyone here her chance to be in Erebor. To be the dwarf she is, not the hobbit she isn’t… please…. Make sure she gets my share?” Thorin’s breath hitches at Bilbo's confession, he never knew that’s how he viewed things. Olaila was a dwarf. Yet he was still treating her like a Hobbit. Mahal the girl had even lost her Axes so right now she felt like even less of a dwarf!

 

Thorin kept listening on...  
“You’re homesick; I understand.”  
“No, you don’t, you don’t understand! None of you do you’re dwarves. You used to  
this life, to living on the road, never settling in one place, not belonging anywhere.”  
Again Thorin’s breath hitches as does Bofur. “I am sorry, I didn’t...”  
“No, you’re right. We don’t belong anywhere. I wish you all the luck in the world. I really do.”  
Bofur smiles and places his hand on Bilbo’s shoulder; Bilbo soon turns and begins to walk away only to look back.  
“Look after her Bofur, make sure that big lug marries her? Her favourite flowers are tulips, purple and white. Never yellow.”  
Thorin smiles sadly at that. This hobbit was totally besotted with his sister and out for her well being.   
“What’s that?”

“Wake up. Wake up!”

 

THUD!   
OW!  
Oliala woke up with a start, her back felt sore, her shoulder trapped under a weight… oh… thats Bombur! Opening her eyes she focused on the group of men around her, all scrambling to their feet in the cavern lit with torches. Goblins had them up and rounded up in no time, their yells mixing with the dwarves very own shouts.  
“Hold on to Nori, hold on to him like your life depends on it!” Gloin spoke hurriedly, as Dwalin was at the back of the group now, too far from her to reach. Oliala found herself pressed against Nori’s arm, linking it together while Nori placed a large hand over hers. Dwalin wouldn’t like that but Nori was the best source of protection as they were surrounded by Oil, Balin and Ori who was next to Bilbo. More Goblins descended and began their assault, grabbing, scratching, pushing… They were being herded somewhere like sheep! Nori pressed Bofur's hat firmly on her head and muttered about being a female here is dangerous. Before she could truly react she noted Bilbo was gone and was pushed even further in to the miserable place known as Goblin town... 

The monstrous goblin horde sings and snarls as they herd the dwarves through a vast network of tunnels and wooden bridges to the throne room and platform of the Great Goblin. Oliala hates the The Great Goblin already, his vile repugnant face making her face gurn in disgust. He was a massive Goblin sitting on a throne, holding a mace topped with a skull. He is far larger than any other goblin, and he is incredibly ugly, with warts all over her swinging chin. She notes this as the fray begin disarming them of weapons, Storm Seeker is taken from her, her last weapon! The dwarves’ weapons are piled together. The Great Goblin jumps off his throne, trampling several goblins, and approaches the Company. Looking straight at them he smiles an ugly grin.  
“Who would be so bold as to come armed into my kingdom? Spies? Thieves?  
Assassins?”  
Dwarves, Your Malevolence.”  
“Dwarves?”  
“We found them on the front porch.”  
“Well, don’t just stand there; search them! Every crack, every crevice.”

 

The hands begin to wander, thoroughly searching them all and Olaila squeaks as one rough hand drags the hat off her head and throws her to the front. Her knees would be feeling that tomorrow...  
“We got a female here! Oh my what a sight you are my lady.” The great Goblin cackles as Olaila is pushed further to her knees. A jagged knife pressed against her throat and a clawed hand in her hair… The greatest dishonour anyone could do to a taken dwarrow. Behind her she hears the sound of Dwalin being restrained.   
“Look at me girl!” Oli does as she is bid and slowly lifts her green eyes to the king, who gawks in surprise.  
“Ahh! What a prize! Pretty! But those… yes… those eyes there is no mistaking. Tell me my dear. What is your name?”   
Breath caught in her throat she tells him… firm as not to betray any emotion. Her throat bobs as she swallows the bile slowly rising within it.  
“Olaila? Hahahaaa! Yes what a pretty name befitting a star! Even the white scar on your forehead is a star! My my lads! We have a prize here indeed!” The Great Goblin lifted his large chin and grinned as nobody else spoke of why they were there-  
“Well then let us make them squawk! If they will not tell me I bet the pretty star will! Bring out the Mangler! Bring out the Bone Breaker! Start with the girl, our friend will not mind if she is slightly broken, keep her middle whole, after all what's a broodmare if she cannot mate!”  
Olaila paled and fought as the Goblins grabbed her, the mens shouts of protest at her being a breeding mare to whoever his friend was… Dwalin was shaking with rage.  
“Wait.” Thorin stepped out from the crowd and flashed a concerned look at Oli, who was now `looking to him with watery pleading eyes.  
“Well, well, well, look who it is. Thorin son of Thrain, son of Thror; King under the  
Mountain.” The great blob bowed and cackled.   
“Oh, but I’m forgetting, you don’t have a mountain. And you’re not a king. Which makes you nobody, really. I know someone who would pay a pretty price for your head. Just the head, nothing attached. Perhaps you know of whom I speak, an old enemy of yours. A Pale Orc astride a White Warg.”  
Never had Oli thought Thorin could look so horrified, but here he was, as if he was looking at his worst memories replay over and over in his head.  
“Azog the Defiler was destroyed. He was slain in battle long ago.”  
“So you think his defiling days are done, do you?” Olis struggled shouts echoed in the large cave.  
“Send word to the Pale Orc; tell him I have found his prize enemy and his prize star. Kazaag! Silence her!” As the smaller Goblin slid down the ropes Oli was hit in the head with a club and collapsed to the floor.  
As her vision was fading she heard snippets of the conversation around her as Thorin roared.

She is a very rare breed…. Stars on our world are hard to find….  
What do you mean…. She is a dwarf not a star….. Monster…. Why does…… Azog want her?  
To BREED her! The stars make the strongest babes!..... The last star upon this earth…. The Orc will bree…….. Then kill her…. Once she has bore ……. Son …..

Oliala fought to stay awake….

Azog… not get her….. Never….. Belongs with us….SHE IS MY KIN!  
Oh she is strong….. Hit her again…  
The last thing she heard before she was struck and the world went black was Dwalins mighty roar.  
“AMRALIMEEEEEE!!!!”  
Blackness. 

 

Olaila felt groggy as the wind hit her face, there was light.   
She could smell fire, blood and feathers. She must have been out for a long time as she opened her eyes. She saw Dwalin looking ahead, his grip on her firm but loving as his eyes watered with unshed tears. Lifting a small weak hand to his face she smiled as his face lit up with shock.  
“Oh my love…. You came back to me….” Dwalin’s voice cracked as he held on to the giant Eagle for dear life. They share hushed words of love and tender kisses as the eagles fly to the Carrock. Gandalf and Oin help Olaila stand very slowly and walk her a few paces to get her bearings. Mainly unharmed just concussed Oin deduces, rest is needed it seems.  
“We rest here tonight!” Thorin declares as Gloin begins to start a fire…  
Where did he get the wood?!  
Oin and Gandalf help Oli lie down on a cloak and with balms and a spell or two she rests easier. Dwalin was stroking her hair gently as he recounted the events just gone, her eyes groggy and drugged stare at him happily as he tells her of how he and Nori held you to escape the mine, how Nori stopped Dwalin from being stabbed a few times which he was thankful for. Of Azog, Bilbo’s return (who was brewing a tea with Dori to send her to sleep), of Gandalf holding her in the trees as if she weighed nothing at all. Oli listened and breathed deep wet sobs as Bilbo apologised to her, of how he loved her and was so sorry he couldn’t help save her in there. She stayed awake enough to sit up and rest against a rock as the sky was now a rich blue dotted with pins of starlight. Her skin was lighter, giving off a very faint hum of light. The Company were huddled near the fire talking and laughing, her rock was only a few steps away but it was quiet, enough to calm her as she stared at the stars and felt peaceful. A shuffle to her left told her another wanted to speak to her.

Thorin.

He sat next to her and spoke at length at how wrong he had been. Oli though she had counted 15 apologies at this point. The tea was kicking in and her eyes grew droopy as Thorin spoke words that made her cry even in a half asleep state.  
“My lady… I again am so sorry.” 16 apologies.  
“ I was so so so wrong about you and your brother. Yet you have saved us time and again, even by being knocked out you shone like a star enough to stun the goblins and Gandalf helped us while we got you out. I don’t know how you did it but you literally struck them with your white light, brighter than daylight, brighter than the sun! You saved us even without trying. YOU are one of our kin, and a worthy dwarf as any, you my lady are a Blacklock. I Thorin, son of Thror, vow to lead you home. Also I guess we never spoke of the division of the treasure, you deserve a share and Balin has begun amending the contract now-” Her voice was quiet, tired and hiccuping, like a tinkling bell within the starlight they sat in. Her tears like tiny diamonds upon her cheeks.  
“Don’t amend that for me Thorin… I only ask one…. *Yawn… thing.”  
“Dwalin?” The king chuckled, Dwalins head turned at the mention of his name, was his love alright? She was softly sobbing, sleepy tired mewls of sadness. The whole Company looked now.  
Oliala smiled happily and reached out for Thorin, he took her hand to hold but she dragged him in to a hug with surprising strength despite her weakened state. The king to be hugged her back gently.  
“I already have Dwalin, it is more than any treasure can give me. But when Erebor is reclaimed. Please don’t send me away. I don’t have to be a jeweller, I can work as a maid if I have to. Thorin please………. Don’t sen…. Me away…. I want… Erebor to be… my ho..me..”   
Her voice fell away to gentle deep breaths of sleep, Thorin released himself from her to see her face wet with tear tracks. The Company stood behind him now as he held her in his arms, Dwalin strode round to sit and draw her in to his lap to rest against his chest. The tea had worked, Dori had noted happily.   
“Dwalin.”

The bald dwarf met his kings gaze.

“When we reclaim Erebor I vow she will be home, I will never send her away. After all my Captain of the Guard will need a wife to handle him…. I do need a royal jeweller after all.” 

Dwalin went to sleep that night with a grin on his face, and Balins contract had the now dry inked letters of Thorin's decree. Olaila Blacklock would be forever Erebors Royal Jeweller.


End file.
